


The Roronoa Fruit

by Stark_Black



Series: The Roronoa Fruit [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stark_Black/pseuds/Stark_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Zoro's surprise, Sanji takes a step towards friendship, using food as his cover. Now their new friendship is deepening fast and Sanji almost can't keep up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Steps

Zoro’s left eyebrow twitched. It always twitched when the cook was closing in on him. Not always the same kind of twitch, no, there were three very distinct types of twitching. The first was, it twitched lightly, three or four times like the tiniest brush of butterfly wings when Sanji was just about to pass him by on his way to bring the girls drinks. The second was when the blond was coming to attack him, his killing intent evident in the air. Zoro’s eyebrow would twitch twice sharp and quick then as a warning. This kind of twitch always had Zoro wanting to paw at his face to relieve the itch that the involuntary muscle spasm caused him. 

The third kind of twitch was very rare and was by far the most annoying. The third type was one long twitch, like a Charlie horse directly above his eye. This twitch had Zoro sometimes making strange faces and never failed to put him into a bad mood instantly. The long twitch always meant that Sanji was about to _talk_ to him. As if the fact that the cook wasn’t the most annoying person on the planet in the first place, the cosmos had to inflict upon Zoro this curse of his face spazzing out whenever the idiot was around.

The kind of twitch Zoro was experiencing now was the Charlie Horse Twitch. Oh yay. 

“Oi,” that voice that grated against Zoro’s nerves spoke up from the swordsman’s left, “You awake?”

Zoro sighed. There wasn’t much point in pretending. He could try and ignore him and the jackass would kick him upside the head now, or he could just brave it and be ready for the inevitable kick when it came later.

“Yeah,” Zoro muttered and cracked an eye open, “I’m awake. What do you want?”

Sanji kept his distance, which was strange. Usually the cook liked to walk up into your personal bubble and fill it with his nauseating cigarette smoke.

“I want to show you something,” Sanji said.

Zoro’s twitching eyebrow relaxed and he raised it. “Is that your new code for ‘Let’s go below deck so we can fight and Luffy won’t see’?”

Sanji blew out smoke and made a face.

“Fuck you man, I don’t want to fight. I just wanna show you something. I thought you’d like it. It’ll take like two minutes.”

This had to be a trick. Sanji never wanted to show him anything, except the bottom of his shoe. Zoro was wary, but he stood slowly and grabbed his swords which had been napping along with him at his side against the rail.

“This had better be good,” Zoro muttered.

Sanji rolled his eyes and turned towards the galley. Zoro followed, breathing in the scent of the cook’s tobacco. 

Okay… so it wasn’t that bad of a smell; not really _that_ nauseating. Zoro had started to associate the smell of Sanji’s cigarettes with the only home cooked meals he could ever remember eating. Some of the best… okay, fine, _the best_ meals he had ever consumed in his life had been eaten in the comforting haze of that bitter, musky smell. Zoro knew, but he would never admit aloud, that the smell of cigarettes would forever make him think of home. 

Pushing the door open and striding across the galley floor in a few quick steps— _damn, his legs were long_ —Sanji put out his cigarette, washed his hands, and reached into a large clay bowl. Turning back to Zoro, the cook held out something small and green to the swordsman.

Zoro looked at the offering skeptically. It resembled a large cherry, but it was green and instead of a stem, it had a top like a strawberry.

Zoro reached out slowly and took the assumed fruit. “What is it?” He asked.

Sanji shrugged. “No idea. I gathered a couple barrels of them when we stopped at that last island. They should make for some good eating.”

That twitchy eyebrow rose again and Zoro narrowed his eyes at the cook.

“You have to forgive me if I’m a little skeptical. How do I know this isn’t poison and you’re not just trying to kill me?”

Sanji rolled his eyes again and reached into the bowl. He plucked up his own small, green fruit and popped it into his mouth. “Try it,” he said as he sucked the juices out.

Zoro’s eyes lingered on Sanji’s tongue as it rolled the green cherry-thing around in his mouth, but then he caught himself and returned his attention to his hand. He pulled the leafy thing from the top and tossed it in the sink before he slipped the fruit between his lips. He bit into it but not all the way, just enough to break the skin and allow Zoro to suck the juices from the inside. It was sweet like a strawberry, but slightly tangy like an orange. Zoro thought the texture was not unlike a grape and bit down to test his theory.

His teeth came together hard on a pit and he kicked himself for not thinking of that before he so recklessly clamped his jaw down.

“Ah, haoch,” Zoro said around the fruit.

Sanji smiled. “Yeah, the pits, I was gonna tell you, but I thought it would be funnier if you figured it out yourself.”

“Huck youh,” Zoro said and tried not to dribble juice down his chin.

Then something strange caught Zoro’s attention. The pit felt funny. It was bulky and lumpy and shaped like… wait… As he separated the fruit from the center, Zoro realized what was wrong. He swallowed the flesh and spit what was in the center into his hand.

Frowning down into his palm he exclaimed, “Mine had three pits!”

Sanji chuckled and spit into his own palm. “They all do.” As if to prove it, he showed Zoro the three round seeds in his hand. “That’s why I wanted you to see it. It reminded me of you. Good flavor, but a pain in the ass cause you have to eat around three huge seeds… And then of course they’re green…”

Zoro looked up, and for a moment, he was caught with a feeling that something important was happening at it was going to go right over his head if he didn’t pay attention. He looked as Sanji, smiling at him carefully and slipping another of the little green mutant cherries between his lips. Realization started to trickle slowly through Zoro as he stood there watching the cook lean against the sink and grin at him. 

Holy shit if he wasn’t about to grin right back.

“I thought you should be the first person I showed them to since I’m gonna name them the Roronoa Fruit. Or maybe just Roronoas.”

Zoro did smile then. “You can’t name a fruit after me. I can’t be the greatest swordsman in the word and have a fruit named after me!”

“Why the hell not?” Sanji was laughing. “You’ll no doubt have ships and shit named after you, might as well have a food too. Besides,” he held up a monster cherry in front of Zoro’s face, “What the fuck else am I gonna call it?”

Zoro said nothing as he snatched the… _Roronoa_ from Sanji’s fingers and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the taste and separating the flesh from the pits. It was actually kind of hard. Damn fruit, it _was_ a pain in the ass…

Sanji turned back to the bowl and picked up a small knife. His hands moved quickly, slicing a small ‘x’ at the base of each fruit so he could push the seeds into another container. Zoro watched quietly for a time, trying to decide if he should stay and reciprocate this unprecedented show of trying to be friendly, or just treat it like another one of Sanji’s eccentricities and make his way back out to the deck to train before dinner. 

Absently, Zoro’s hand went up to feel the bandages underneath his shirt. The swordsman had noticed the subtle differences in the cook’s behavior towards him since his… ‘injury’ at Thriller Bark. Up until this point, he hadn’t known how to react. But now, if Sanji was going to take this big of a step in… whatever it was he was going for—friendship? Zoro could buck up and do it too. He _was_ infinitely more mature than the baka cook after all.

“What can you make with them?” Zoro asked quietly.

Sanji’s hands faltered for a split second, like he hadn’t expected Zoro to say anything.

“Pretty much anything you can make with cherries. I can top desserts with them, put them in ice crème, fruit salad, drinks…” Sanji shrugged. “Don’t know. I have the barrels frozen below deck. I’ll try a bunch of different stuff over the next couple weeks. I’ll spread it out, wouldn’t want you guys to get sick of them right away.”

“Can you make a pie?” Zoro asked.

Sanji turned to look at him. Something shone in his eyes briefly, but he looked away again before Zoro could identify what it was.

“Would you like a pie?” Sanji asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Again, Zoro was struck with a feeling that there was a deeper meaning to this conversation than just how many ways one could serve this new fruit.

“Yeah,” Zoro said, “I’d like a pie…” And with a knot tying itself in his gut, Zoro added softly, “Please…”

Sanji stood frozen for a moment before he slowly nodded into the sink and continued with his pitting.

“Dinner’ll be ready in just a few minutes, so go get the others and I’ll make you your pie after we eat.”

Zoro nodded and slipped out of the galley.

* * * *

Dinner was the usual chaos. Captains trying to eat everything in sight, including food from their shipmate’s plates, musicians singing and dancing eliciting shrieks of laughter some small reindeers, girls smiling and rolling their eyes as they watched the boys fight and throw food at each other.

Zoro’s eyes wandered several times to glance at the cook, who was eating at his usual spot: standing by the sink. The swordsman wondered why Sanji had said nothing about his discovery to the rest of the crew. Maybe Sanji was waiting until he made the pie, then he could fly down the stairs and surprise the ladies with the first bites of his newest masterpiece while he spewed mindless BS and cried hearts into the sky. 

Zoro made a face and turned his attention back to Luffy, who was trying to steal his last few bites of roasted potatoes. The swordsman hoped he would at least get an actual piece of the pie and not just the leftover scraps this time.

* * * *

Later that evening, Zoro sat leaning against the railing, watching the sun dance on the horizon. He was waiting for Sanji’s shouts of ‘Mellorine!’ or something to indicate that he had finished baking the pie. Although he had eaten his fill at dinner, the swordsman’s mouth watered in anticipation of the dessert Sanji had promised.

When he heard the light footfalls coming towards him, Zoro turned his head to see Sanji standing at that careful distance again, holding a plate and a tall glass of something green and white. It didn’t slip Zoro’s mind how his eyebrow was still relaxed and sitting where it should be on his face. But he was a little confused by the whole thing. He sat there and blinked stupidly for a few moments. 

Sanji started to get impatient though and huffed, tapping his foot on the deck.

“I worked on this for an hour, asshole. Don’t tell me you don’t want it now.”

Zoro shook himself. “Uh… no… No, I want it. Give it here.”

The plate was passed and so was the drink. It looked like one of those fancy things Sanji made for Nami when it was particularly hot outside… only green.

“Nami and Robin enjoy it?” Zoro asked.

Sanji pulled out his lighter and lit the cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“They haven’t tried it yet.”

Zoro looked up at him. “Excuse me?”

Sanji sighed, and as if the moment wasn’t already strange enough, the cook moved closer and sat down beside Zoro, leaning back against the railing and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“You asked for it,” Sanji said quietly, “And I thought you should be the one to try it first. It’s named after you after all.”

Zoro looked down at the generous piece of pie in his lap. It smelled heavenly, even if the green filling was a little disconcerting. He turned to the tall glass he had set on the deck by his thigh.

“The drink?”

Sanji puffed on his cigarette. “I tried that out while the pie was baking. Thought you should test that out too.”

Zoro sat, trying to take everything in. Trying to make sense of this bizarre day and all the subtle implications that had almost passed over his head.

Zoro finally managed. “You have to know that this is a little weird for me.”

Sanji didn’t look at him. “Not just for you… It’ll take some getting used to.”

Zoro nodded and picked up his fork. He paused before bringing the sweet-smelling treat to his lips. He turned once more towards the cook and that with that knot tying itself in his stomach again, he said carefully.

“Thank you.”

Sanji looked at him then and there were no more words. They didn’t need them for understanding. Not that either one of them would be able to speak them anyway. The cook nodded, whispering a quiet ‘You’re welcome’ and the swordsman took the first bite of his pie.

Oh… good… God…

Zoro must have made some kind of noise because Sanji started to grin.

“That good huh?”

Zoro nodded and said around a mouthful.

“Everything you make is good, Sanji.”

Zoro felt the cook freeze beside him but he kept eating and watching the sunset like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He let the name sink in and let the cook take it however he wanted. 

 

TBC


	2. The Game

Sanji let his head fall to the crook of his elbow. His body sat slumped and exhausted over the table in the galley. He kicked his shoes off and rolled his ankles slowly. The day had been a long one and the cook was weary all the way to his freshly broken bones. 

A band of marauders had attacked the Sunny just as its crew had been finishing lunch. The fight had gone on until after the sun had set, the asshole bandits not giving up until Franky and Usopp had sunk their ship completely with a barrage of cannon balls. Now, they had twelve prisoners below deck that Sanji had felt obligated to feed on top of preparing dinner for his own people.

“Sanji-kun,” Usopp had said tentatively over his shoulder as he stirred the soup, “You don’t have to do that, you know. They’re prisoners. They tried to kill us.”

Sanji had just shaken his head and added a few more handfuls of cabbage to the pot. “They’re starving, Usopp. They’re so skinny I can see their ribs through their clothes, and they went for our supplies almost before they attacked us.”

He heard Nami sigh behind him at the table. “I don’t understand. They broke three of your ribs and cut up your leg. How can you serve them after that?” 

He had hated her for a split second. Taking a deep breath, Sanji growled into the soup. “If Luffy or Zoro or whoever wants to go down there and kill them all, fine. But no one goes hungry on this ship! _No one!_ I don’t care how many bones they broke!” Then he hated himself for raising his voice to a lady and had turned around and apologized profusely.

In the end, Sanji had taken the soup to the prisoners with Chopper’s help. The dirty, destitute men had devoured Sanji’s food in seconds, tears running from their eyes. Sanji had just leaned against the wall, smoking and feeling a pleasant warmth growing in his gut. 

The leader of the prisoners had been so grateful to Sanji, that he had handed him a map in thanks for the delicious meal. Glancing over the parchment Sanji thanked him and had gone to find Nami. He had handed her the map and walked away, sucking on his cigarette and smiling smugly as the woman started screeching and calling for Franky to alter their course.

The map had been a treasure map. 

Now, it was past two in the morning and Sanji had just finished cleaning up after their late dinner. The crew was in bed, save Zoro, who was on watch.

Sanji let a hand slip to his side. The pain from his cracked ribs was minor, nothing compared to when he had broken his back, but the aching was an annoyance. Breathing was also kind of a bother. If he could just hold his breath for a couple of hours, that would be perfect.

The sound of the galley door opening startled Sanji and he sat up straight, wincing as his ribs were tweaked. Who the hell was up at this time of the night?

A green head peered around the door and dark eyes met Sanji’s. The cook relaxed and leaned back carefully in his seat waving to his visitor.

Zoro frowned as he stepped into the kitchen. “You _are_ still in here,” he said softly. “I’ve been waiting for you to come out. Why are you still in here?”

Sanji shrugged. “I had to scrub the pots after dinner. The sauce from lunch was all crusty ‘cause I forgot about it. Wasn’t the first thing on my mind when we were attacked.”

“No I suppose not,” Zoro smiled softly and pulled out a chair. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“You were getting patched up,” Sanji said as he nodded to the bandages on the swordsman’s arm, “And then you were on watch. Speaking of, why aren’t you out there now?”

Zoro’s turn to shrug. “A ship isn’t going to appear and attack us in five minutes. I wanted to see how you were.”

Sanji frowned. “How I was?”

Zoro nodded. “You snapped at Nami today; you never do that. I thought something was wrong.”

Sanji groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I know. Shit… that was so awful. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. She was being a bitch.”

“Don’t talk about Nami-san like that, asshole,” Sanji hissed.

Zoro put up his hands in surrender before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sanji watched the swordsman as the larger man shifted in the seat until he was comfortable. The past few weeks had been interesting. After the events at Thriller Bark, since Sanji had decided to smooth the waters between them using the strange fruit he had discovered, Zoro and he had been getting along swimmingly. Sanji had discovered that Zoro was surprisingly intelligent, not even close to a slob, and showered or bathed regularly. He had no problem helping Sanji with simple tasks if the cook asked him nicely, and Sanji’s training sessions had picked up and his moves had improved since he had started sparring with Zoro regularly. 

Sanji hadn’t realized how much he had missed having the company of a male friend his age. Robin and Nami were wonderful to talk to now and then, but the conversations always evolved into talk about the ph values of paper, or relapsed into discussions about skin-softening lotion. Brook was good for a laugh, but his eccentricities got on Sanji’s nerves after a while. Franky was hilarious and Sanji loved to discuss past conquests of respected men’s daughters, but the cyborg’s view of women differed greatly from the gentleman cook’s, and it sometimes pissed him off. Sanji respected women above all else, and Franky was… well… a little better than a pimp in Sanji’s eyes. Chopper, Usopp and Luffy… well, it really goes without saying. 

But Zoro was different. Zoro liked to stop and take in a sunset once in a while. He liked to listen to Brook’s music and hold Chopper in his lap until the little reindeer fell asleep. Zoro enjoyed a good fight, but always seemed to balance his training with hours of intense meditation. The guy actually thought a lot, and not about stupid shit either. When Sanji and the swordsman had first started to talk regularly, Zoro had opened up and displayed a love of life and respect for things around him that Sanji found intriguing. Zoro was anything but stupid and a world away from lazy. 

The cook felt a little ashamed at not seeing the swordsman for what he was earlier. He had been too busy worrying that Zoro might be a rival for the girl’s affections. But as Sanji had studied the other man, he had found that either Zoro just wasn’t interested in the specific girls on the ship, gods knew why, or he was just too preoccupied with achieving his goal and girls in general were an annoying distraction.

Sanji could understand that, even respect that-- leave the pleasures of the flesh until your ultimate goal has been reached-- it was very admirable. But Sanji could never do that. Girls were just too soft and smelled so good. They made such cute noises when you touched them in the right places… 

“Oi, cook,” Zoro said chuckling, “Where the hell are you?”

Sanji’s eyes refocused and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I was just thinking about stuff.”

“Like what?”

Sanji leaned back again carefully, trying to keep the grimace off his face. “What you’d look like if I dyed you hair black.”

Zoro laughed softly, obviously expecting something completely different. 

“Why _is_ your hair green anyway?” Sanji asked. “I’ve never seen or heard of anyone else with green hair. Where the hell are you from?”

Zoro shrugged. “I don’t remember… Why do you hide your left eye?”

That caught Sanji off guard and the smirk slipped from his face. Zoro and he had been talking as of late, yes, but they had steered clear of personal subjects.

“What?” The cook’s voice cracked slightly.

Zoro looked at him carefully. “You don’t have to answer; I was just thinking out loud.”

Sanji pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit the tip, slowly pulling the smoke into his lungs. Zoro waited patiently while the cook chewed his lower lip and stared at the table. Finally, Sanji sighed and brought a hand up to his face. He slipped a finger underneath his bangs and moved the hair from his face. 

Zoro frowned. “It’s exactly the same.”

Sanji chuckled and nodded. “It is.”

Zoro looked confused. “But, you hide it. Why do you hide it?”

Sanji grinned around his cigarette. “It’s my turn.”

“This is a game?” Zoro smirked.

“Isn’t everything?” Sanji blew out a stream of smoke. “Why three swords?”

Zoro looked away and laced his fingers behind his head. “Easy, three swords is better than two. If I could hold four, I’d use four. Why are you so obsessed with feeding everyone?”

“I’m a chef. It’s what I do.”

“No,” Zoro said as he sank slightly in his chair and put a boot up on the table. “Why do you insist on feeding _everyone_ , including people that just fucked you up and tried to kill your crew?”

Sanji bristled. “They didn’t fuck me up.”

“Okay, fine. But why’d you snap at Nami when she disagreed with you about it today?”

Sanji sighed and rested his head on the back of the chair. The ceiling was suddenly very interesting.

“Nami-san doesn’t know what it’s like to go hungry, and I don’t mean a couple days without meals, I mean _really go hungry_.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Sanji snapped, lifting his head to look at Zoro. “If you knew the feeling of being without food for longer than you can remember, the feeling of your body slowly eating away at itself and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it… Knowing that you’re going to die and all you can do is wait for it… You would never wish that on anyone… no matter what they’ve done.”

Zoro stared hard at him and Sanji suddenly felt heat creep up into his cheeks. He had never told anyone about his time on that tiny island in the middle of the ocean. No one but a shitty old man knew what had taken place in that long month and a half. The cook felt exposed and averted his eyes from the swordsman’s intense gaze.

“It’s my turn…” he said softly.

“Hit me,” Zoro replied.

Sanji only thought a moment before he spoke. “Why are you here instead of in the crow’s nest?”

“I told you,” Zoro made a face, “I wanted to see how you were.”

“You could have done that in a couple seconds,” Sanji pressed. “Why are you _still_ here?”

Zoro glared and made to stand up. 

“You want me to leave then?”

“No!” Sanji sat forward but regretted it immediately when his side exploded with pain. “Ah… shit…” he whispered, both hands clutching his side.

Zoro stood then and moved to Sanji’s side. He kneeled and moved the cook’s hands, opening the blond’s coat and pulling up his shirt. Sanji didn’t fight it, checking each other’s wounds had become another normalcy since the two of them had started to stand each other.

“Where exactly does it hurt?” Zoro asked as he prodded with his surprisingly gentle fingers.

“Ah,” Sanji hissed as Zoro’s fingers pressed against a tender spot. “There and lower.”

Sanji saw Zoro frown out the corner of his eye.

“What did Chopper say when he saw this?”

Sanji would have shrugged, but his side was hurting too much. “He said there’d be a tiny bit of swelling and maybe some bruising. He wanted to wrap my chest but I said no. My ribs healed fine last time without the wrapping.”

“Maybe some bruising?” Zoro asked, “Did you get hit again after he looked at it? Because you’re bruised pretty fucking bad.”

“What the hell?” Sanji stood and moved into the kitchen. He pulled up his shirt and looked at his reflection in the stainless steel fridge. “Holy shit! It didn’t look like that before!”

Sanji frowned into the reflection, but he froze when he felt Zoro move up behind him and gently slide his fingers over Sanji’s bruised skin. Shivers rocketed up the cook’s spine and he felt his breath catch. The swordsman was still just looking at his injury, but the proximity of their bodies made Sanji’s heart race. 

Without thinking, Sanji turned and hooked a foot around Zoro’s. He caught the swordsman off balance and whirled him around. Before Zoro could react, Sanji had him pressed up against the fridge, a hand twisted in his shirt.

“Woa, what the fuck!” Zoro growled, “What’s your problem, shit-cook?”

Sanji was breathing hard. His hands were shaking. He glared at the swordsman and ground his teeth on the cigarette that had long ago gone out.

“That was weird, Zoro.”

Zoro looked at him like he had just asked him to lay an egg. “What was weird? I’m worried that you might have something worse than broken ribs and you throw me around the kitchen! You’re the one who’s weird, asshole!”

Sanji blinked. “Worse than broken ribs? Like what?”

Zoro pulled Sanji’s hand off his shirt and pointed to the cook’s side. “Your worst pain isn’t even close to your ribs, and your bruising is all lower. I think you might have internal bleeding. Maybe you got hurt worse than you thought.”

Sanji scowled and took a step back. “So you’re a doctor now?”

“No, idiot,” Zoro replied, “But I know internal bleeding pretty well. Now, if you’ll stop being a dill weed for a second and let me look…”

Sanji pursed his lips, but in the end he let Zoro lift his shirt and examine his side. He closed his eyes and pulled out another cigarette to chew on to distract himself. 

After a few minutes of careful prodding by Zoro’s fingers, Sanji let his eyes slip open. The smell of steel had alerted his senses and when the cook turned his head slightly, he could smell traces of mint from Zoro’s hair. He found this slightly funny and chuckled softly.

“What’s funny?” Zoro asked.

“Do you use mint shampoo?”

A not so careful poke made Sanji inhale sharply.

“If I did?” Zoro was smiling, Sanji could hear it in his voice.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Sanji teased. “I just didn’t think someone like you would use such a girly-smelling shampoo.”

Zoro laughed quietly and moved his hands lower to check around Sanji’s hip. “This is coming from the guy who smells like vanilla.”

“I smell like vanilla?” 

“Just your hair,” Zoro said. “The rest of you smells like fish.”

“Ah,” Sanji realized he had been staring at Zoro’s neck through this entire conversation. He had been watching the flex and stretch of muscles as the swordsman moved and was now transfixed on the darker man’s pulse. It was beating faster than Sanji would have expected. Was the swordsman’s heartbeat always that fast?

Zoro straightened and Sanji turned away quickly, not wishing the other man to see him ogling his skin. 

“You really should have Chopper look at this again,” Zoro said quietly, “You might have injured your spleen or something.”

Sanji made a face. “I’m alright for tonight. Chopper’s had a rough day treating all of us and then the prisoners too. That was my fault, he didn’t have to do that, but I asked him to. I’m not gonna bother him right now.”

Zoro shook his head and backed away. “All right, but have him look at it tomorrow or I’ll kick your ass.”

Sanji smiled despite himself. “Like you could.”

Zoro snorted. “Oh, I could.”

“Then why haven’t-” Sanji made to grab for his lighter, when a sharp pain doubled him over. He clutched at his side and fell to his knees.

“Oh… fuck that hurts…”

Zoro was instantly by his side. The swordsman put a hand underneath the cook’s arm and steadied him.

“I told you, shit-cook.”

Sanji shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I twisted to get my lighter. It really is just my ribs. I’ll go lay down and have Chopper look at it in the morning.”

Zoro hesitated, but finally nodded and helped Sanji to his feet. He slipped the cook’s arm around his neck and started towards the door.

“Oi, shitty bastard,” Sanji growled, “You don’t have to d-”

“Shut up, Sanji,” Zoro tightened his hold. “I’m helping my friend get to his hammock ‘cause he’s hurt. Don’t make me knock you out and carry you there.”

Sanji sighed, but smiled in spite of himself. He let the swordsman help him to the cabin and give him a boost into his hammock. Turning half on his side, the cook tried to make himself comfortable. When a soft blanket was spread over his chest, Sanji’s eyes snapped open. 

Zoro didn’t look at him, he just stepped back and scratched the back of his neck.

“I got it the last time we docked ‘cause Usopp likes it so fucking cold in here all the time.”

Sanji was frozen for a moment before he got his muscles to work properly again. He reached up to run his fingers over the dark blue fabric and smiled softly. The blanket smelled exactly like Zoro: minty, with an undertone of polished steel. The cook glanced back up at Zoro, who was almost shifting his feet with embarrassment.

“Thanks, Zoro,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Zoro still didn’t look at him, but he nodded and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and said with his back to Sanji.

“Have Chopper look at your side in the morning.”

Sanji’s smile widened.

“I promise… ‘Night, Zoro.”

“’Night.”

The door closed and Sanji burrowed his face in the soft blanket. The cook fell asleep with the smell of the swordsman surrounding him, and the memory of Zoro calling him his friend dancing around his heart.

TBC


	3. Mutant Jam

Zoro watched as the first slivers of the sun peeked over the top of the ocean. The water was calm. The sound of the gentle waves hitting the hull was peaceful music to the swordsman’s ears. Zoro had been finding it harder and harder to get comfortable when the crew was ashore because he didn’t have that sound to soothe him in the middle of the night. He stood and stretched the muscles in his lower back, and rolled his shoulders. His neck popped as he turned it from side to side.

Below him, he heard the sound of Robin’s cabin door shutting. She made her way out to the railing to watch the last few minutes of the sunrise. She always came out to see the sun as it pulled free of the horizon and started its journey through the sky.

“Good morning,” she called to him, but didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. She knew he was there, and she knew that he knew she was there.

“Morning,” he yawned in return.

Usopp would be the next one out. He was always up early, tinkering with one kind of explosive powder or another. He liked to get the bulk of his crushing and mixing of potentially hazardous materials done with before a certain captain woke up. The hours right after sunrise and before breakfast gave him enough light, and a quiet and blessedly bazooka-free period to prepare his ammunition.

Speaking of breakfast, Sanji was due next after Usopp. He was always one of the first up. He would come to the railing and light a cigarette with his back to the sunrise. Zoro had noticed a few weeks ago that the cook was rarely interested when the sun came up, but Sanji always made time to watch the sunset. It puzzled Zoro to no end. It didn’t matter if there were dishes piled ten feet high in the sink, or if Nami and Robin decided to walk from the sauna to the girl’s cabin in just towels. Nothing stopped him from glancing at the horizon and watching the sun disappear. 

Deciding to make sure the cook’s promise about talking to Chopper this morning was kept, Zoro climbed down the ladder. He hit the deck and nodded a good morning to Usopp as he emerged from the boy’s cabin. The engineer smiled sleepily at him and held the door as the swordsman brushed past. Inside, the sound of loud snoring assaulted Zoro’s ears, and he made a quick stop by Luffy’s hammock to tie the younger boy’s lips in a knot. With the sound of sawing logs absent from the cabin, the silence was almost deafening. 

Zoro moved to the couch and gently shook Chopper’s shoulder. The little reindeer groaned and turned his head towards the swordsman. Big, dark eyes looked up at him from underneath heavy eyelids and Zoro couldn’t help but smile at his little friend.

“You okay, Zoro?” Chopper asked.

Zoro nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I need you to take a look at the cook. He said he would talk to you this morning, but I know he’s gonna try to get out of it. I thought you could catch him before he gets all into making breakfast and ‘forgets’.”

Chopper was instantly alert and sitting up. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and straightened his hat over his antlers.

“What happened? Did it start to swell? Is the bruising worse? Don’t tell me the ribs pierced through the skin! I told him if that ever happened again I was going to shove my stethoscope so far up his-”

“No, no.” Zoro couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the doctor’s crude words. “I’m pretty sure the ribs are healing just fine. I think they’re only cracked anyway. What I’m worried about is he’s got dark bruising lower on his side and he’s complaining of pain around and _underneath_ the ribs.”  
Chopper’s eyes widened and he jumped off the couch. “Did he say anything about his left shoulder hurting?”

Zoro looked at him puzzled. “Um… no, I don’t think so.”

Zoro followed the reindeer as he ran to the back of the cabin. There, Sanji was curled into a tight ball underneath Zoro’s blanket. The cook had his face buried in the blue fabric and Zoro’s heartbeat started to pick up as he noticed Sanji’s breathing was a little harsh.

“Sanji?” He moved to the blond’s side and gently pulled the blanket from Sanji’s taut grip. “Sanji are you…” Zoro was startled as he took in the cook’s appearance. Sanji’s skin was paler than usual and coated in a fine sheen of sweat. His blond hair was damp in the back and hung limply over his face. These were both things that fit under Zoro’s ‘Not Good’ category, but nothing scared the swordsman more than seeing how Sanji was shivering uncontrollably.

The cook opened his eyes slowly and frowned up at Zoro.

“What the fuck?” he rasped. “I just got to sleep like five minutes ago! And why the hell is it so fucking cold in here!?”

“Shit!” Chopper hissed. “He’s got a fever! I can’t believe this! If he’d just tell me when stuff hurts I could diagnose him better!” The doctor ran for the door and shouted orders to Zoro as he burst out onto the deck. “Get him to the infirmary, Zoro! I have to get a few things from the supply deck! Don’t jostle him around too much and DO NOT let him leave! I don’t care how much he complains!”

With that, Chopper disappeared and Zoro moved to slide his hands underneath Sanji’s legs.

“What the hell are you doing, Zoro?” Sanji growled.

“I’m getting you to the infirmary, doctor’s orders.”

“You don’t have to fucking carry me.”

“Shut up.” Zoro gently placed Sanji’s arm around his neck and lifted the cook like he weighed nothing more than a small child. “Let Chopper fix you up. You can kick my ass when you’re better.”

Zoro heard Sanji whimper softly and decided to leave it for now, but make fun of the blond later. He carried the other man as gently as he could, ignoring the surprised and concerned stares from Robin and Usopp. Sanji pressed his face into his shoulder and the swordsman could feel the silent curses breathed against his skin.

“Shit… shit… shit…” 

Zoro’s worry spiked. Sanji never let anything get to him like this. There must be something seriously wrong. Damnit, he should have pressed the cook harder to talk to Chopper last night! Or he should have said something himself!

Kicking open the infirmary door, Zoro moved quickly across the room and laid Sanji on the examination table. Robin followed close behind and Usopp watched from the doorway.

“What happened?” The dark-haired woman asked.

Zoro started to open Sanji’s shirt and almost gasped when he revealed the fresh bruises. They were twice as big as last night. Dark patches of pooled blood surrounded by angry red and grey made Zoro’s adrenaline surge.

“Stupid cook got hurt bad and didn’t say anything. Again.”

“Fuck you, Zoro,” Sanji hissed through his teeth.

“That’s right, Zoro,” Chopper scolded as he rushed into the room carrying several small boxes. “I don’t want to hear any of that coming from you. You do the same crap all the time.”

“Whatever,” Zoro mumbled. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

Chopper pushed Zoro gently away and pulled a stool up to the side of the table. Reaching up and turning on the light, he began to prod at Sanji’s side with his hooves. 

“He’s ruptured his spleen.”

“What!?” Zoro and Usopp yelled at once.

“It’s a potentially fatal injury if you don’t catch it in time. But I think I’ll be able to remove it quickly and his recovery time will be rather short.”

“You’re gonna _remove his spleen_!?” Usopp shrieked. “Can you really do that?”

Chopper nodded as he leaned closer to inspect Sanji’s side. “The spleen is an organ that filters bacteria and other foreign substances out of the body. It also holds extra blood and that’s why the bruise is so large and dark. It’s leaking out into the abdominal cavity.”

“Oh _God_!” Usopp cried.

“But he’s gonna be okay, right?” Zoro growled.

“I’ll know the answer to that after I operate.” Chopper motioned to Robin. “Can you please lock the door, Robin and make sure no one comes in or out while I’m doing this?”

“Of course, Chopper,” Robin said coolly before turning to the cook. “Good luck Sanji-san.”

“Ah, beautiful Robin-chwan,” Sanji crooned around a grimace. “I’ll make it through knowing that you care.”

Zoro wanted to pop him in the jaw, but not when Chopper was right there. He nodded to the little doctor and made to follow Robin, but was startled into stillness as Sanji’s hand came up and gripped his wrist. The swordsman turned and looked down at the cook, a confused frown furrowing his brow.

“Zoro,” Sanji whispered, “will you stay?”

Zoro blinked. A strange feeling started to well in the swordsman’s chest as he studied the cook’s features. Stay? Sanji wanted him to stay? Why?

“Please… Zoro…” Sanji’s eyes slipped closed as Chopper injected something into the blond’s arm.

“Actually,” Chopper said, “you could help me, Zoro. There’s some masks and gloves in the drawer over there. Wash your hands real good and then come turn him on his side for me.

Zoro glanced at Chopper and then back to Sanji’s pained face. He felt strange being allowed such an intimate place in this whole thing, but couldn’t ignore how his heart swelled as Sanji held onto his arm. The cook really had become his friend in the last few weeks; more than just nakama in name, it was the real thing now. They were finally talking and getting along, training together, fighting together, and Zoro wasn’t about to leave his friend if the cook wanted him here.

“Yeah,” Zoro said quietly, “I’ll stay.”

Sanji’s shoulders relaxed and his head turned towards the ceiling. Zoro gently removed the cook’s fingers from around his wrist and laid the limp arm on the table. Moving to the sink, he pushed the strange feelings churning inside him aside. Now was not the time to contemplate things he would probably never understand.

* * * *

Several hours later, Zoro sat against the wall in the infirmary, tired and shaken. Watching Chopper open Sanji up had rattled him in some fundamental way. Seeing someone sliced up in a fight, or witnessing a person losing a limb in the heat of a battle was completely different than standing by while a hole was cut deliberately into someone’s side. The amount of blood that escaped from the incision bothered Zoro as well. The cook was far too skinny for that to have happened and still be alive. 

The swordsman now had a new respect for Chopper. The doctor had faced a problem that had made Zoro queasy with a calm countenance and had even cracked a joke or two during the surgery. Zoro had always known Chopper was an amazing doctor, but now that he had actually seen the little reindeer in action, he was impressed beyond words. 

Sanji had taken the whole thing well, but that was probably the drugs Chopper had administered. The cook had rambled softly about soft blankets and too high pulse rates the whole time. The swordsman didn’t want to know what that was all about, but for the most part the cook seemed fine. He had fallen asleep quickly after Chopper had announced him out of danger and was breathing quietly across the room.

“He’s going to need food when he wakes up,” Chopper said quietly, pulling Zoro from his musings. “Something soft and mild. Soup would be nice, but Nami says we’re low on supplies. Crackers or toast would be good; I’m sure we have bread.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only eat Jell-O or ice cream after surgery?” Zoro asked.

Chopper smiled a tired smile. He slumped in his chair, watching Sanji’s chest rise and fall, periodically taking the cook's pulse and checking his temperature. “You can, but there’s hardly any calories and no nutrition in that stuff. He’s getting all the sugars and electrolytes he needs from the IV, but he needs something solid in his stomach.”

Zoro nodded. “I’ll find something. I’m pretty hungry myself.”

Chopper nodded and chuckled softly.

“What?” Zoro made a face.

The little reindeer blushed and swung his legs like a little kid. “Well, it’s just funny to see you guys getting along so well lately. Considering how even your shadows couldn’t stand each other.”

“Our what?!” Zoro sat forward. What the hell was Chopper talking about?

“Um.” Chopper scratched his head. “Well, Robin and I got captured by the zombies who had your guys’ shadows. We got away because they started fighting with each other and forgot about us.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow. “Our shadow zombies were fighting each other?”

Chopper nodded. “They didn’t remember anything about their past living bodies, just that they hated each other.”

Zoro snickered and shook his head as he stood. “I never hated Sanji. I just… I don’t know. He used to piss me off…”

“Used to?” Chopper looked up.

Zoro nodded. “Yeah… used to.” He glanced quickly at the sleeping cook and headed out the door.

* * * *

In the kitchen, Zoro found Brook, drinking coffee and reading one of Robin’s books. The skeleton glanced up as he entered and waved.

“Yohohoho! Greetings! And how is our good friend the cook doing?”

Zoro moved to the fridge and opened the door. “He’s gonna be okay- at least that’s what Chopper said. He’s just going to need some food when he wakes up. But I don’t know what the hell to give him.”

Brook marked his place by folding his current page and set the book carefully on the table. He stood and straightened his jacket and ruffled shirt as he joined Zoro at the fridge.

“You two are very close, are you not?”

Zoro hesitated for a moment before he continued to shuffle through the shelves. “We haven’t always been. It sort of… happened after we picked you up.”

“After you picked me up?” Brook scratched his fro. “I don’t know, I would say Sanji thought pretty highly of you before that.”

Zoro froze completely this time, his hand halfway between the jar of mayonnaise and the pickles. For some reason his heart had started to pump faster and his breath had quickened.

“What do you mean?” the swordsman asked quietly.

Brook, oblivious, turned and opened the cupboards. “He was so very worried about you after the fight with Kuma. He completely ignored Ms. Nami’s complaints of pain to search for you. He was frantic… so I just assumed.”

Zoro thought back to the morning he had woken up after their fight on Thriller Bark. Sanji had been subdued, keeping to himself mostly, almost ignoring Zoro completely. There was no way Sanji had been… nah…

“You’re taking things out of context,” Zoro said firmly. “We’re nakama, we look after each other in a fight. He was probably just worried we had lost one of our strongest or something. Makes more work for him.”

Zoro felt Brook glance at him before the skeleton went back to rummaging through the shelves. 

“If you say so, Zoro.”

After a few silent minutes, Zoro sighed and straightened from the fridge.

“I can’t find any soup or potatoes that are already cooked. Chopper said we could feed him crackers or toast, but I don’t see anything to put on it. There’s no butter or anything.”

Brook turned and ran a finger over his chin. “Is there jam?”

Zoro shook his head.  
“Hm.” Brook shrugged. “That’s too bad. Jam would be a great thing to give him. It’s nutritious and easy to eat. Not to mention it tastes really good- especially the jams Sanji makes.”

“Yeah…” Zoro shut the refrigerator door, defeated. 

Then a thought hit the swordsman. His eyes widened and he turned to the tall musician.

“Hey, Brook? What do you need for jam?”

Brook turned to him, surprised. “What?”

Zoro moved to the cupboard and ruffled through the jars and packages of spices, reaching for something towards the back.

“What all do you need to make jam?” Zoro asked again.

Brook folded his hands under his chin and stared his hollow stare at the floor.

“Oh, I don’t know. Fruit and sugar I guess?”

Finding what he was looking for, Zoro grunted happily and pulled a small leather bound book from the back of the shelf. Brook eyed him questioningly, and turned to look over the swordsman’s shoulder.

“What is that?”

Zoro opened the book and said quietly, “This is Sanji’s recipe book. He writes down everything he creates in here in case he’s killed on one of our crazy adventures. He doesn’t want the idea to go to waste.”

Sure enough, inside the book revealed pages and pages of Sanji’s neat cursive. Drawings of specific pots or tools were sketched in the margins here and there, but it was mostly just Sanji’s words listing out instructions for his creations.

“Oh my,” Brook breathed, “that is a treasure right there…”

Zoro nodded in agreement as he searched the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he almost danced.

“Here!” He pointed to the open page.

Brook leaned forward and let out a surprised chuckle when he saw what Zoro was pointing to.

“A jam recipe.” He smiled his toothy smile at Zoro. “How did you know?”

Zoro snorted. “He’s got recipes for fish he’s never even _seen_ in here. Why wouldn’t he have something for a jam?”

As Zoro started pulling things down from the cupboard, he felt Brook’s eyes on him again. He sighed and turned towards the musician. “What?” he asked.

Brook chuckled softly and slipped his coat off, clearly enjoying the thought of being able to utilize the famous chef’s kitchen.

“It’s just funny, is all.”

“What’s funny?”

Brook shrugged. “You two.”

Zoro made a face and punched the skeleton gently on his bony shoulder. The musician laughed and danced away with a loud “Yohohohoho!”

“Come on and help me,” Zoro said, trying to hide his grin. “There’s a lot of boiling and measuring. And go ask Chopper what the hell pectin is.”

* * * *

After listening to Chopper sniffle and prattle on for ten minutes about how wonderful Zoro was for making jam for Sanji, Brook and the swordsman got a detailed lecture on deluded acids and poly… poly…sac… something’s. Zoro almost had a heart attack looking for this pectin stuff in the kitchen. There was no way he was going to make that shit from scratch. Luckily, Sanji already had a bunch made from Nami’s minkans. When everything was gathered on the counter, Zoro and the musician went down to the storage room to get the last ingredient.

“What if the recipe doesn’t work with this new fruit?” Brook asked as they made their way back up the stairs. 

“Sanji said that you can do pretty much anything you can do with cherries or strawberries with these things. The recipe he has is for strawberry jam, so I’m just going with it.”

Brook stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned on his cane.

“Why don’t you just make him some soup? Soup is good when people are ill or injured. Why go through all this trouble?”

Zoro turned to him deadpan. “There wasn’t any vegetables in the fridge, and we’re out of potatoes. If I made him soup, it would be some spiced meat in water. We don’t have any butter or peanut butter for toast or crackers, and…” Zoro looked down at the bowl of green mutant cherries. His thoughts twisted in his head, making his stomach flutter softly. “And… he takes good care of us every day… I think he deserves something special once in a while…”

Brook looked up at him contemplatively for a few seconds before he nodded and followed the swordsman up onto the deck.

* * * *

An hour later, Zoro stood leaning against the filthy countertop holding a full jar of bright green jam in his hand. It was almost funny how the stuff practically glowed inside the glass. But he tasted it, and so had Brook, and the consensus was that it was edible. 

Surprisingly edible. 

The galley door opened and Brook came back from checking on Sanji. 

“He’s awake; Dr. Chopper says we should feed him.”

Zoro looked up from the toxic-looking container and surveyed the kitchen. Dirty pans and bowls littered the countertops, and sticky… stuff was everywhere. He should clean up before Sanji saw this mess. Or should he be there when Sanji tries the jam? But what if he didn’t like the jam? Did he want to see Sanji trying the jam and not liking it? Or worse, what if Sanji tried to be nice about it, and _pretended_ to like the jam? Would he even do that? Maybe-

“Zoro?” Brook asked by his side. “You okay?”

Zoro glanced at him. “I was just thinking about the kitchen. If Sanji sees it like this, I’m dead.”

Brook smiled and cracked his knuckles. “Don’t worry, my friend. I just so happen to already be dead!! Yohohohoho!!! I will clean up this mess while you take the cook his treat.”

Zoro made a face and turned away quickly. Why the hell did his face feel so hot?

“Okay… that works, I guess.”

Reluctantly, Zoro put two pieces of toast in the toaster and grabbed a plate and a spreading knife, or at least he thought it was a spreading knife. It wasn’t sharp so what else could it be?

The walk from the galley was a lot longer than Zoro remembered. It wasn’t that he was nervous; no way… he was just… Well it was just really going to suck if he and Brook had worked so hard on this jam and then it turned out Sanji didn’t even like it. 

Zoro stopped at the door to the infirmary and rested his hand on the wall. He contemplated passing the toast and jam onto Nami to give to Sanji, but then the swordsman realized what he was doing.

 _I am not a fucking coward…_ Zoro mentally slapped himself. _The cook’s opinion matters to me, but not so much so much that I’m going to run away!_

Zoro took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside, Sanji was propped up on some pillows and muttering under his breath as Chopper fussed over him.

“I don’t need to be babied, Chopper. You got me all fixed up, so let me go. I need to go cook dinner. I’ve already missed breakfast and lunch, I can’t even begin to think what Nami-san and Robin-chwan are thinking of me right now.”

Zoro growled and stepped up to the bed.

“For your information, shit-cook, Robin and the witch woman are worried about you. They said to do everything Chopper says, and stop whining like a baby. You also need to eat, so here.” He shoved the plate in Sanji’s face and mustered up the meanest scowl he could.

Sanji glared right back and took the plate with a huff.

“Stupid marimo bastard. Don’t talk about sweet Nami-san like that. And what the hell could anyone have found to eat on a ship that’s so low on supplies, I was going to have to m… Whoa…” Sanji’s grumbling ceased when he looked down at what Zoro had handed him. “Zoro, what is this?”

Zoro felt his face heat up again and, for a moment, was exceedingly grateful for his dark skin. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the wall to his left.

“It’s jam,” he said simply.

“Jam? This is from the new fruit!” Sanji looked up at him then, his blue eyes wide. “Zoro… did you make this?”

Zoro shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Brook helped… and it wouldn’t have happened at all if Chopper hadn’t explained what the hell pectin was.”

Chopper waved his hands frantically. “No! I didn’t do anything! Don’t compliment me, asshole!”

Sanji looked from between Chopper and Zoro, his eyes lingering on Zoro for a few extra seconds before he turned back to the plate and carefully picked up the toast.

“Thanks you guys…” he said quietly, and Zoro’s pulse quickened when he saw the small smile tug at the corners of the cook’s mouth.

Sanji dragged a finger through the bright green topping and brought it to his lips. Zoro watched as the blond sucked the sweet jam into his mouth, the swordsman’s breath stilling in the few seconds it took for Sanji to test the full flavor. After seconds that seemed like years, Sanji looked back up at him with those wide blue eyes again.

“Zoro...” His voice was an awed whisper. “This is really good…”

Zoro stared back, trapped in the cook’s gaze. He wasn’t sure what to do with such a compliment, so he tried to calm his racing heart and attempted to look exasperated.

“Well good,” he sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “That means you can eat without bitching too much. I’m gonna go help Brook clean up the mess in the kitchen. Don’t give Chopper any more trouble.”

He turned quickly away and headed for the deck. He heard Sanji bite into the toast and Zoro tried not to grin like a madman as he opened the door.

“Thank you Zoro!” Chopper called after him.

“No problem,” Zoro said as he made his escape.

He was about halfway back to the galley when Sanji voice erupted from the infirmary.

“ _Wait a minute! Mess!?!? WHAT THE FUCK DID HE DO TO MY KITCHEN!!??!!_ ”

Zoro ran the rest of the way, laughing.

TBC


	4. Swallowed Pride

“Seriously, how long does it take to turn in some prisoners?” Sanji studied his cards as he complained, taking the two on the end and slipping them into the middle.

Zoro grunted, but said nothing. He knew Nami was taking so long because she was doing what she did best: haggling. She was no doubt at this moment screwing over this small island’s government, getting an obscenely high reward for the capture and return of their twelve outlaws. 

The Strawhats had made a stop at the nearest port after Sanji’s emergency surgery. As much as Nami wanted the treasure, she knew first and foremost they needed to stock up on food and medical supplies. They also couldn’t keep twelve extra mouths on board when Sanji insisted on feeding each and every one of them, so she split the crew into two groups: one to shop for supplies, and the other to turn in the prisoners. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, Sanji had given up on going with Nami and acquiesced to stay on the boat when he was told Robin was keeping watch. 

Unfortunately, now the cook was frowning at his cards and mumbling about how Nami was taking too long and he should have gone to make sure she was safe.

Zoro fingered his cards and sighed softly. In the end, the town’s small government would probably have more stolen by _Nami_ than by the prisoners, but there was no use telling that to Sanji, the idiot thought whatever she did or said was gospel.

“There were a lot of them though,” Usopp piped up, “and there’s probably a lot of paperwork that goes with that kind of thing.” He fanned his cards out in front of him on the table, and then used one to push them back into a neat stack. Zoro was a little fascinated by the way the long-nosed man played cards. He only looked at them once and always seemed to know what was coming when he took from the dealer.

“I just hope she’s okay,” Sanji mumbled.

Zoro growled under his breath. “She’s got Luffy with her… not to mention a fucking cyborg and an eight foot skeleton.”

Sanji threw a chip at him and made a face. “Would you watch your mouth around the lady, please?”

Robin smiled at the cook from across the kitchen table. “It’s really all right, cook-san. I don’t mind.”

“See?” Zoro muttered.

“Watch your mouth anyway,” Sanji snapped. “My kitchen, my rules.”

“Excuse me,” Zoro cocked an eyebrow, “but who’s the one that’s been helping you in this damn kitchen the last week?”

Sanji made a face. “That doesn’t make any difference. Besides, I had to tell you exactly where everything went, _and_ I had to practically _teach you_ how to use a mop.” 

“You give him is meds today, Chopper?” Zoro deadpanned to the little reindeer.

Chopper nodded absently into his hand.

“So, we gonna do this?” Usopp said impatiently. “This game is moving so slow I can feel my beard growing.”

“You couldn’t grow a beard if you wanted to,” Sanji snipped.

Usopp puffed out his chest and made a face at the cook. “For your information, I grew my beard so long once, I was able to supply wigs to one hundred bald women on Mirrorball Island!”

“LIAR!” Zoro and Sanji shouted at the same time.

“Who the hell would wear your shitty-ass hair anyway?” Sanji added as he glared into his hand.

“Watch your mouth, cook,” Zoro mimicked, and Sanji gave him the finger in response.

Zoro was a little angry, and the fact that he was angry about something so stupid was making him angry for being angry. Sanji’s fawning and worshiping of the girls had increased in the last few days since his surgery, and it was getting on the swordsman’s nerves a little more than usual. Robin had been going out of her way to sit with the recovering cook in the evenings, sometimes talking with him in her gentle alto, listening to his exited ramblings of certain spice mixtures, and sometimes just sitting near him at the table, reading a book as he washed dishes after dinner. Nami had even refrained from smacking him upside the head more than once. 

Zoro had approved and even appreciated the way the girls were treating Sanji in the beginning, but now it was bothering him a hell of a lot more than he knew it should. The stupid cook had been falling all over himself around the ship’s estrogen since day one, so why was it different now? 

The swordsman knew he was a moderately intelligent guy, maybe not the sharpest pencil in the box, but he held his own. Despite that, the fact that the added attention after Sanji’s injury was bothering him, confused and frustrated Zoro into distractions during his workouts. This distraction alone pissed him off even more, and led to him missing reps and having to start over. Why were thoughts about the stupid cook and the girls getting to him so deeply? Zoro prided himself on always being very true to himself, and he had always come at problems head on, no bull shit. He didn’t look at a situation from ten different ways and analyze the best course of action like Robin did, but he didn’t fly into a fight without so much as a fleeting thought like Luffy either. He looked at the problem logically and moved with gut instinct and quick observation.

What really sucked though, was the fact that _the situation_ was bothering him. _That_ was the biggest problem in Zoro’s head. That was what he rolled around in his thoughts while he lifted weights, or tried to push out of his mind when he sat on the deck to meditate. There was no logical explanation for why he was feeling like this… Why he felt so…

Shit, he was jealous. He was actually jealous. It was so fucking stupid, but that was the meat of it. Had he really been so needing of a friend his age that he was going to act like a child when that friend got attention from other people?

Zoro knew he had become pretty good friends with Sanji in the past few weeks, but there was no way that the cook had become _that_ integral in his life… 

Had he?

“Two.” Chopper said quietly, and Robin passed him two cards from the deck.

Usopp didn’t even glance at his cards as he said absently, “One.”

“Three for me, my beautiful Robin-chwan!”

That was it. The blacks and reds just blurred together in front of Zoro’s eyes, so he sighed heavily and laid his hand down on the table. He needed to get out where the air wasn’t so stifling. Besides, there was no way he could concentrate with these stupid thoughts and stupid worries and _stupid_ frustrations floating around in his head. He needed exercise; something vigorous and painful to clear his head. 

He stood up from his chair and waved a hand.

“I got nothing. I’m gonna go train.” 

Sanji waved absently, his nose still in his hand. “Later, Marimo.”

Out on the deck, Zoro lifted two five-thousand pound weights. No need to start off heavy. He’d work his way up over a couple thousand reps. He began with simple curls, enjoying the tingling in his muscles. He watched the sun hovering over the tops of the buildings and savored the cool breeze as it brushed his face.

When he reached the twenty-thousand pound weights, he stopped for a moment. He stretched an arm over his chest, brushing sweat from his forehead.

He smelled cigarette smoke.

Without looking, he knew the cook would be leaning against the railing. His hands would be in his pockets, his lips around his cigarette; his eyes watching the sunset.

“Made it out here by yourself, huh?” the swordsman asked.

“Not without a thorough lecture from Chopper,” Sanji answered. He took a drag and blew out slowly. “You’d think I was dying or something the way he carries on.”

Zoro bit back his retort about how Sanji almost _did_ die, and continued his reps. “Should you be smoking?”

Sanji made a low noise and when he spoke again, Zoro could hear the smile on his lips. “Nope.”

A few moments passed in silence as Zoro worked out and Sanji watched the sun slip behind the tips of the tallest buildings. The silences with Sanji were comfortable now. They could be in the same room or just in close proximity of each other and not feel the need to talk. Someone had once told Zoro that was the indication of true companionship: comfortable silence. Was he like that with anyone else? Yes. With Luffy, if the kid was ever quiet for more than ten seconds. Usopp? Maybe. Chopper? Definitely.

“I need to get some extra supplies tomorrow,” Sanji said suddenly, jarring Zoro from his thoughts.

“I thought you got what you needed today?” Zoro asked.

Sanji took a drag on his cigarette. “Yeah, but there’s some things like specific kinds of cheese and spices I wanted to try. I didn’t have time to look for them today ‘cause Chopper said I needed to come back and rest.”

Zoro kept the count in his head. “So, you’re giving me a report of where you’ll be tomorrow? Finally treating me like the first mate?”

Sanji turned to look at him, mock annoyance furrowing his brow. “Yes, I’m reporting to you. I was even considering asking your permission, you know, ship’s protocol and all that.”

Zoro made a face. “That would be a drag.”

Sanji laughed, taking one last puff and tossing the butt in the water. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you...”

Zoro continued with his reps as he listened. “Yeah, cook?”

Sanji looked at Zoro and shrugged one shoulder lazily. “Would you come with me? Please?”

Zoro halted, the weights raised above his head. Never, in ten-thousand years, would Zoro have ever thought that a ‘please’ so sincere would pass between the cook’s lips—and be directed at _him_ no less. The swordsman was so caught off guard that he was momentarily speechless.

“Uh… what?”

Sanji had frozen, his shoulders tense. However, he shrugged it off quickly and smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The cook pulled a fresh cigarette from his pocket and lit up. “You know, to carry stuff. You come with me and I have my own personal pack mule.”

“Oh,” Zoro replied, somewhat relieved. He lowered the weights and smirked. “Like hell.”

Sanji made a face as he gingerly pushed off the railing. “I’d knock you the hell out _but_ ,” he gestured to his side, “stitches.”

“Excuses,” Zoro muttered.

Sanji rolled his eyes, but Zoro saw the smile that tugged at his lips as the blond turned to slowly head back to the galley. 

Returning to his workout, Zoro thought about that moment of tension. The half second when Sanji had acted like Zoro had caught him doing something he knew he shouldn’t be doing. It was strange. Really strange in fact, but Zoro didn’t understand the inner workings of Sanji’s mind any better than the inner workings of the ship’s engine.

Zoro chose to forget about it then, he didn’t want the headache.

* * * *

“It’s fairly simple,” Robin said smoothly as the Strawhats gathered around her on the library. “The map those pirates gave us fits over the map of Key Island we already have. The treasure map has the landmarks and hidden paths, but it does not have the natural landscapes.” The brunette flipped the corner of the treasure map up to show Nami. 

“Oh, yeah,” Nami nodded, “This lake isn’t on the treasure map, so you need the other map to know this stone arch here is probably underwater.” The navigator frowned and pointed to the underwater arch. “Speaking of that, what the hell is this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Luffy stared at Nami with wide eyes. “You can’t read this map, Nami?”

Nami shook her head. “It’s not that I can’t read the map, it’s that I can’t read the writing. It’s in a language I’ve never heard of before and there’s a lot of instructions going on at this junction at the lake.”

Robin folded her arms delicately beneath her breasts and stood quiet for a moment before she spoke. “I’ve been working on deciphering the text, but it might take me a couple of days.”

“That’s fine,” Nami said, “we have plenty of time. The guy we met when we docked her says the log pose takes more than two weeks to reset.”

“What kind of terrain are we talking?” Usopp asked. “I don’t think I can take another hike through a jungle. I’ll cry. I mean it.”

“Looks like it’s cold and rocky,” Nami answered. “Not enough to freeze the lake, I don’t think, but we’ll need to layer up a little.”

Zoro listened with half an ear as he leaned against the wall. He wasn’t that excited for trekking through cold weather, but he was getting a little bit of cabin fever. They had been on the ship for a long stretch of time, and the swordsman was ready to get out and maybe get into some trouble. Not a lot of trouble… just enough to stretch his legs.

“This is gonna be Super!” Franky exclaimed. “We can try out my new land cruiser! I’ll just need to modify it a little bit to compensate for the rocks!”

“You do that,” Nami nodded, “Robin and I are going to pour over this writing a little more. That okay?”

Robin smiled softly and nodded her head.

As per usual, the planning was going on without him, so Zoro decided to go find a quiet place to nap. His plans were thwarted however when he slipped outside and immediately heard the door to the galley open.

“Oi, Zoro…” 

The swordsman turned, and froze for a moment when he saw a pale and haggard Sanji leaning against the door frame. Zoro didn’t understand. The cook had looked fine just yesterday. Why now did he look like a horrible combination of hung over and poisoned?

“Oi, cook…” Zoro tried to sound disinterested. 

Sanji only rubbed at his visible eye and motioned with his head for Zoro to follow him into the galley. This had become standard procedure: when Sanji needed help with something, he would get Zoro’s attention, and then silently signal for the swordsman to follow. At first, Zoro had been shamefully thrilled at Sanji’s trust in him over the rest of the crew, but over the last couple days, Sanji’s silent pleadings for help had increased. The cook was getting sick and he was still stubbornly working in his kitchen, providing for the crew even at the cost of his own health. 

A hard knot twisted in Zoro’s gut as he entered the galley and closed the door behind him. He didn’t like the sacrifice Sanji was making and planned to put a stop to it.

“You look like shit,” Zoro commented, testing if he could get a rise out of the blond.

It didn’t work. Sanji just nodded, and leaned against the counter. This more than anything scared the swordsman enough to take a few steps forward, fearful that maybe the cook was about to pass out or something.

“Don’t freak out,” Sanji said softly, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

Zoro glared. “I’m not freaking out.”

“Yes you are,” Sanji put the stick between his lips and pulled out his lighter. “You’re doing the Zoro freak out thing.”

Zoro stepped forward and took the cigarette from Sanji’s fingers before he could light it. He expected the cook to snarl at him, start flinging his legs around, or something that would end in pain and cursing at each other, but Sanji continued with his frightening complacency and just sighed as he set the lighter on the counter.

“You should really stop this until you’re healed,” Zoro said softly. “I don’t care how strong you are when you’re one-hundred percent because right now-”

“-I know, you don’t have to preach to me.” Sanji’s weary blue eye leveled with him. “I got enough of that from Chopper earlier.”

“Yeah?” Zoro handed back the cigarette.

“Yeah,” Sanji slipped the stick back into the pack in his pocket. “I guess I have some kind of mild infection, and he says it’s because I’m smoking and not resting and everything else we always do after we get injured.”

Zoro frowned. “Why is it different now?”

Sanji shrugged. “Something to do with the spleen being a filter for bacteria, and some other crap. He also said I may have popped a stitch or two inside.” 

Zoro clenched his jaw. “So… does this mean you’re going to take it easy now?”

Sanji closed his eyes and shrugged again. “I want to… I should, but I have a crew to feed.”

“Sit down,” Zoro ordered.

Sanji’s eyes opened and he looked at Zoro with that same pleading expression. “I can’t, Zoro. I gotta-”

“Sit down, or else,” Zoro growled, “because I have no problem knocking you the fuck out… _again_.”

Sanji’s eyes pinched with pain at the memory of what happened between them at Thriller Bark. Zoro knew it was a low blow, but he was willing to play the bad guy if it meant that Sanji would rest.

“What…” the cook swallowed thickly, “what about dinner?”

Zoro pulled his swords from his haramaki and set them carefully out of the way. “Something easy that I can’t mess up too bad. Soup, or sandwiches or something.”

Sanji lowered himself to a chair at the table and ran a hand over his hair. “I guess you can’t mess up sandwiches really. How are you with knives?” Zoro threw him a look over his shoulder and the cook actually smirked. “Okay, okay, dumb question.” He pointed a finger at the fridge. 

“Open that up and take out everything I tell you.”

* * * *

Zoro proved to be pretty good with knives. His skill didn’t hold a candle to the skill he held with swords, but it surprised Sanji none the less. The cook couldn’t help complimenting the swordsman after he sliced the ham and cheese into perfect uniform slices. His hands were quick and precise, with never a wasted movement, and he learned fast. Sanji directed where to place the cuts on the giant platters and Zoro followed his instructions quickly and painlessly. 

“So why do we have twenty kinds of fruit out?” Zoro asked after he had placed the platters in the fridge.

“For fruit salad,” Sanji answered, pulling a Roronoa from one of the containers. He held it up for the swordsman to see. “Nami and Robin like it, and they’ve yet to have one with these guys in it.”

Sighing, Zoro sat across from the cook. “Am I going to need a special knife for all these too?”

Sanji smiled as he chewed the fruit. Zoro had seemed extremely put out at having to fetch a different cutting utensil for almost everything he had sliced for sandwiches. “No, you can use the paring knife for most of these.”

“Which one’s the paring knife?” Zoro grumbled. 

Sanji pointed and leaned back in his chair. The swordsman took the small knife and grabbed an apple. 

“Do I peel it first?”

Shaking his head, Sanji let his hand move unassumingly over the tender section of his side. It really did hurt, and not a good kind of itchy, healing kind of hurt either. It was an ache, deep in his side, and it was making his head pound. Chopper had given him antibiotics, but since Sanji had insisted it wasn’t as bad as it was, the little doctor had only given him mild pain killers.

“Naw,” Sanji murmured. “Leave the peel. The red is great contrast to the other colors in the mix.”

Zoro looked up at him as he began methodically cutting the fruit. “You cook stuff based on color?”

Sanji nodded. “Presentation is one of the most important parts of cooking.”

Zoro shook his head, his attention turning back to his task. “Seems kind of silly. Your food tastes great, so why worry about what it looks like?”

Sanji smiled, but didn't have the energy to explain. He reclined carefully, stretching his legs underneath the table. He had to focus on not wincing as his side tweaked, but he managed to relax fully without giving away how much pain he was actually in. 

"What are we doing about breakfast tomorrow?" Zoro asked.

"I have muffins in one the bins in the fridge. Some berry, some chocolate, I think there’s a few nut." The cook closed his eyes again, his teeth grinding together, aching for a cigarette. "We can have those and whatever's left over from the fruit salad tonight."

"And Luffy?" Zoro asked, his smile obvious in his words. "What happens when he wants meat?"

Sanji shrugged. "We’ll give him the rest of the ham you didn't slice."

Zoro was quiet for a few minutes and Sanji took that as he was satisfied with his breakfast plans. The sounds of the scraping knife started to lull Sanji into an almost meditative state, but then there was a long moment of silence. It brought the cook back up from his near-slumber and he cracked his one eye open.

The swordsman had placed the knife on the table, and was eyeing a fruit in his hands with a look so confused that Sanji had to chuckle.

"What's up, Marimo?"

Zoro shot him a glare before shaking his head. "What the hell is this?"

Sanji eyed the yellow fruit in the swordsman's hand and his smile grew. "It's a star fruit."

Shaking his head, Zoro passed the oddly shaped fruit from palm to palm. "How in the hell is this like a star? How do I even cut this?"

"Lay it on the cutting board and slice it." Sanji instructed.

Zoro did as he was told, and when the fruit was sliced, he held up one of the star shaped pieces and stared at it with wide eyes.

"I'll be damned..." he murmured.

"You eat those all the time," Sanji made a face. "How can you not know what it is?"

Zoro lifted one of his shoulders lazily. "I don't pay attention. You make good food, I eat it. I don't question."

Sanji's cheeks started to hurt from his smile being so wide. "That's like, two compliments in less than an hour, Zoro, my head's gonna explode."

Sanji expected the shrug-off and the low grunt he received from Zoro, but what he did not expect, was the light pink tinge that blossomed over the other man's cheeks. The damn swordsman was blushing! And it was actually kind of charming! 

Running his fingernails lazily over the patch of stubble on his chin, Sanji found himself feeling extremely smug, even with the fever and the pain in his side. Who would have known that Zoro could actually be cute?

"Stop looking at me like that," Zoro growled with no real menace. "You're being creepy."

"Meh," Sanji drawled, "shut up shitty-swordsman and make me a sandwich."

* * * *

Sanji startled when the sound of Zoro’s voice woke him. When had he fallen asleep? Where were they, the galley? His side hurt, but not as badly as it had earlier. Warmth pressed against him and he leaned into the strong embrace.

“Oi, cook,” Zoro’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Wake up.”

Sanji’s eyes flittered open and he almost jumped at finding the swordsman’s face so close to his. Zoro had stood him up and slung the cook’s arm over his shoulder. Their sides were touching, as were their hips, and their thighs. Normally Sanji would repel from this kind of physical contact with another man, but it was Zoro. Zoro was his nakama, and for some reason he didn’t mind being just a little weak around him as of late. It seemed to change the swordsman into a kind of willing pseudo-slave, and the cook was just fine with that. If the green-haired lug wanted to give him grief about being pathetic, Sanji would remind the bastard just how mother-hen he was turning out to be.

“What’s happening?” Sanji murmured.

“The rest of the crew is gonna come rushing in here in a few minutes,” Zoro explained. “I was gonna get you out of here before that happened.”

Sanji did a half shrug and rubbed at his eye. “Don’t bother. I should be in here just in case Luffy tries to start a food fight with Usopp or Brook. Someone’s gotta refill the girl’s glasses too.”

The cook faltered when Zoro’s stance became rigid. 

“The girls can refill their own damn drinks,” Zoro growled with a lot more menace than Sanji thought was necessary. “I’ll keep Luffy and the rest from tearing up your kitchen. You are gonna go lie down and sleep. If you get up to do anything but piss or take a shit before morning, I’ll throw you in the fucking ocean!”

Stunned by the fierceness in the swordsman’s words, but simultaneously amused at Zoro’s protectiveness, Sanji hesitated for only a moment before complying and moving with Zoro to the galley door. He silently let the swordsman take him to the lower deck and into one of the unused cabins. The cook was shocked to see an empty bed made up, the lamps lit, and the small shelf stocked with towels and other assorted items. The gesture was so kind and unexpected, that Sanji froze in the doorway.

For the past week, Sanji had been sleeping in the infirmary. Chopper thought this best since the boy’s cabin had a tendency to get loud at odd hours, and there was always the arbitrary pillow thrown by certain captains. Unfortunately, the cots set up to hold the patients were hard and extremely uncomfortable. Sanji had let everyone know as often as he could the first few days, but he had toned it down a little when he was allowed to get up and stretch his legs. 

Now, the bed looked so inviting that Sanji felt his legs starting to go weak. As Zoro pulled him into the room and released him carefully, the cook reached out and ran his hand over the soft blanket.

“Zoro…” Sanji breathed. “Did you do this?”

Zoro grunted. “It was my idea, but Chopper did most of it. You don’t have a bathroom though, you’ll still have to come upstairs and use the washroom with the rest of us.”

“It’s fine.” Sanji grinned merrily and climbed up onto the soft mattress. He carefully turned to his back and relaxed into the pillows. “Oh… yeah…” he groaned. “Oh, this is great.”

Zoro stood for a moment, silent, looking down at Sanji with unreadable eyes.

“What?” Sanji asked.

Zoro shook his head. “You just… look terrible.”

Sanji snorted. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from an ugly bastard like you.”

To the cook’s surprise, that got no rise out of Zoro whatsoever. The man just stared down at him with that uncharacteristic look of concern knotting the flesh between his eyebrows. Feeling a little taken apart by that gaze, Sanji spoke to break the strange silence.

“I’m okay, Zoro. Go make sure my kitchen doesn’t get destroyed.”

Zoro nodded slowly and turned to go. Sanji watched his back as he stepped through the doorway and started to pull the door shut behind him.

“Hey, Marimo,” Sanji murmured.

The swordsman stopped and turned back. “Mm?” 

Sanji smiled sleepily, showing as many rows of teeth as he could. “Thank you.”

Zoro seemed frozen for a minute, but then he blinked and turned his eyes away. He shrugged shallowly and shook his head as he backed out. A quiet, “it was nothing” passed between his lips, so light that Sanji almost didn’t hear it.

* * * *

The following morning, Zoro found himself in the kitchen washing dishes by himself. The crew had come and gone, inhaling the food with an almost maniac enthusiasm before escaping quickly back to whatever it was they did every day. Zoro didn’t really care, he liked the quiet of the kitchen when there were no captains or snipers howling, or cyborgs singing, or musicians ‘yohohoho’ing. The steady run of the water was soothing; the repeated motion of wet, scrub, rinse, and stack was comforting. 

Zoro had never really thought about it before, but after a few minutes of scrubbing the inside of a giant coffee pot, the swordsman realized that washing dishes was actually kind of _hard_. The strange angle he had to press against the metal side worked muscles he didn’t normally train. He made a mental note to have Sanji make something that stuck to the inside of the pans when he got better. That way Zoro could get a new kind of workout. Hell, it would probably give him a serious edge against even the best of swordsmen.

After an hour of scrubbing pots and pans that were already clean, Zoro felt a pleasant ache from the newly discovered muscle groups and decided to take a shower and check on Sanji. Chopper had brought him some breakfast, but the swordsman thought he should check on the cook again in case the stupid blond had snuck cigarettes. 

Stepping from the shower, the swordsman toweled his hair dry and pulled on a clean set of clothes. He grabbed his haramaki and swords as he left the cabin, and made his way down to the storage cabins. Number four’s door stood cracked a tiny bit, and Zoro pushed it open slowly, moving quietly in case Sanji had gone back to sleep.

The cook was not asleep. He was sitting, propped against a pile of pillows, reading large, leather-bound book.

“I’m not smoking,” the cook growled with no real menace.

“I didn’t come here to check if you were smoking,” Zoro lied.

Sanji looked up and gave the swordsman a soft smile as he put down the book. “Sorry, Chopper’s been in here every thirty minutes _checking my temperature_.” The cook rubbed the back of his neck. “The kid’s so transparent he’s like a window.”

Zoro moved into the room and turned the chair beside the bed around. He straddled the seat and rested his arms on the back. “Where the hell did those come from?” he asked.

Sanji turned to the bouquet of flowers Zoro was glaring it. The small, blue vase was sitting on the shelf beside the bed. An assortment of yellow and white flowers peeked out from a mess of large, green leaves. The cook’s smiled widened and he sighed.

“Nami-san got them for me when she went out to buy the map and a new compass yesterday!”

Zoro’s eyebrow twitched. Once. Long and hard like a Charlie horse. 

“Robin-chwan got me this book too,” Sanji crooned, his voice grating on Zoro’s nerves like an ice pick. “It’s a history of how food has been one of the foundations of every culture in the Grand Line!”

Watching the stupid cook hug his damned book and swoon over his gifts from the ship’s females, Zoro found he wanted to punch something. Nami and Robin walked all over Sanji on a regular basis, treated him like he was little more than a slave, but with one simple gift: a measly pot of flowers (not even that extravagant), and a book that looked like they had found it in a trash heap, they were worshipped like fucking queens.

It pissed Zoro off, and to the swordsman’s surprise, it even hurt a little deep down where he would never admit to it out loud. He’d had to almost _die_ to get the damn cook to just be _civil_ to him! He’d had to bleed his own—and Luffy’s—blood just to get treated like a person! It wasn’t fucking fair! Zoro used to treat Sanji like crap, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything else. Now, now that they were okay with each other, now that they were friends… _He_ would never slam Sanji into the side of the boat if the cook had just risked his stupid life to save him! _He_ would never just expect Sanji to wait on him hand and foot and give absolutely nothing in return! _Zoro_ wouldn’t take advantage of the cook every second of every day!

“Zoro?” Sanji’s voice pulled Zoro from his broodings.

“Mm?” the swordsman grunted, “Sorry, what?”

Sanji was staring at him. His face was a mixture of confusion and concern. “You… okay?”

“Of course,” Zoro tried to relax his shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Sanji frowned and shook his head. “Don’t know.”

It was selfish. It was childish. It was everything that Zoro prided himself on _not being_ , but lately Sanji had been making him feel all kinds of stupid things he didn’t understand—didn’t really want to understand. Zoro was jealous, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass. It was stupid that the girls could have Sanji’s affections after being such bitches, when Zoro had to work his fucking ass off.

Zoro’s jaw clenched as the reality of his thoughts hit him. Affections? He wanted Sanji’s affections? Now that was just as stupid. He didn’t want… or did he?

“ZORO!” Sanji snapped his fingers in front of the swordsman’s face. “Where the fuck are you!?”

Zoro rested his chin on his folded arms and calmed the raging storm in his chest. There suddenly was a lot of new information to process and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it here in front of the cook. Later, after a nap, and maybe a quick lesson from Sanji on how to make lunch, he’d think about it. Now, he was just going to stick with being petty, and see where that got him.

“The girls may have gotten you some flowers and an old, dusty book,” Zoro growled, his smile was fake, but it felt good on his face, “but I did breakfast. And then I cleaned the kitchen and washed all the dishes. Even the coffee pots, _and_ the ice maker.”

Sanji sat for a moment, fingering the spine of Robin’s book and watching Zoro with a strange expression. “Really?” he asked finally, softly, as if he was expecting Zoro to say ‘just kidding!” and give him crap for believing such an obvious lie.

Zoro nodded, his insides screaming in triumph at the rare look of gratitude that passed over Sanji’s face. Not often did anyone on the ship do something for Sanji without expecting food in return—besides the things that happened during fights. Many of the crew had put their life on the line for Sanji many times, but it wouldn’t be right to count that—so on those few occasions when someone did something nice for the cook just because, the expression that flittered through Sanji’s one blue eye was staggering.

Now, Sanji wrapped his arms around his book and sank down into the pillows. His smile was small and almost shy, but it was exactly the smile that Zoro had wanted. The swordsman was almost giddy. He sat quietly, enjoying the moment of speechlessness he had inflicted on the usually outspoken cook.

“So…” Sanji began softly, “Zoro… I-”

The cook’s next words were cut off as Luffy threw himself through the doorway. His arms were stretched thin as he held onto something above deck. His legs clapped together as he wrapped himself around the bed’s post.

“Zoro! Sanji!” The Captain bellowed excitedly. “Nami and Robin figured out the map! Get ready, we’re leaving in an hour!”

Sanji sighed and his smile widened as he set Robin’s book down and pulled off the covers. Zoro stood as well, quickly moving to block the cook from getting out of bed.

“Woa, what the hell, where do you think you’re going?”

Sanji made a face. “To take a shower and pack things for the trip. You think I’m gonna stay here when you guys are going to go trekking through an island of new and undiscovered fruits and whatnot? Kiss my ass, Marimo.”

Ah, they were back to ‘Marimo’ again. “Idiot, you could barely stand yesterday, and now you think you’re going to go on a treasure hunt?”

“Zoro,” Luffy piped up, “Is Sanji really that-”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Zoro snapped.

Sanji stood despite Zoro’s efforts to stop him and stretched. “I’ll ride the cruiser Franky’s been fixing up. I won’t walk. If I see something I want to check out, I’ll have _you_ go get it for me. How’s that?”

Zoro thought about it for a minute. It might be all right if Sanji didn’t do any actual travelling, and that selfish, childish part of him was once again thrilled that Sanji was depending on him and not someone else.

“Okay,” Zoro murmured and turned to Luffy, “but if he starts to bitch about pain or being tired, someone’s gotta bring him back to the ship.”

Luffy nodded, a curious look in his eyes. “It’s fine with me, Zoro. I’m sure Sanji will be fine.” Suddenly, all of the captain’s teeth showed as the dark-haired man grinned up at his first mate. 

“Besides, why should I worry when he has you to take care of him!?”

Zoro didn’t have a chance to say anything before Luffy shot back out the doorway. The swordsman stood for a moment, wondering if he should be embarrassed or not. But then he decided that he just didn’t care. 

Sanji was smiling when Zoro turned back around. “You’re gonna take care of me, Marimo?”

Okay, maybe he was a little embarrassed. “Whatever. You need help getting back up to the washroom?”

Sanji nodded. “Why not?”

As Sanji put his arm around Zoro’s shoulders, the swordsman remembered their conversation before Luffy unceremoniously interrupted. 

“Oi, cook,” he asked, “what were you about to ask before Luffy barged in?”

A strange look came over Sanji’s face then, and the blond shook his head. “It’s not really… well…” He looked at Zoro and shrugged his free shoulder. “We can talk about it later.”

Zoro waited a few heartbeats and then nodded slowly. As the two nakama climbed the stairs together, Zoro pushed down his curiosity with as much willpower as he possessed. He wanted to know more than anything what the cook had been about to say, but he wasn’t going to push. Not when Sanji was this trusting. 

Besides, Zoro would get it out of him eventually.

TBC


	5. Instincts

Sanji quickly found that having a Marimo-slave during an island excursion, was simultaneously the best and worst thing in the history of things.

By some act of some crazy god that Zoro didn’t believe in, the swordsman had decided to do every little thing Sanji asked. When Sanji spotted something he wanted to have a closer look at, all he had to do was tell Zoro, and the ship’s first mate got this determined look on his face and ran to fetch it. Luffy had gotten into it as well, as had Chopper, and after a while Sanji had started to feel like some kind of royalty.

The reason Zoro’s unfalteringly loyal service was simultaneously the _worst_ thing ever, was because nine out of ten times Sanji asked Zoro to bring something to him, the idiot swordsman either brought back the wrong thing, or he got lost trying to find his way back to the cruiser. 

In truth, it all wasn’t really worth the trouble, but who was he to pass up a Zoro slave? Chopper and Luffy were enormously entertained by the whole thing as well, so really, Sanji figured he was helping everyone out.

“Here! Here! Sanji!” Luffy exclaimed, shoving a fist full of leaves and small, red berries in the cook’s face. “Can we eat these? They’re not meat, but maybe you could make a sauce or something to go with some meat? Actually, forget that. Why not just make a sauce out of the meat? Then we can have meat with meat sauce! Now _that_ would be awesome!”

Sanji chuckled and took the berries from his captain’s hand. The berries themselves were dodgy, but the little flowers that clustered at the tops of the stems seemed promising. He smiled at Luffy then and nodded his approval. 

“I’ll see what I can do about the meat sauce, Luffy.”

“YES!” Luffy cheered. “Meat sauce!” 

Nami watched their captain bounce away to the front of the cruiser where Brook and Usopp were talking. Luffy guffawed and perched happily on the nose of the vehicle, much like he always did on the nose of the ship. Nami shook her head and leaned further into the blanket she and Sanji shared. 

Sanji itched to lean back, maybe accidently brush his thigh against hers, but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea. She was burrowed underneath the blanket with him, trusting him to keep his hands off like a good nakama, and he was not going to betray that trust. Having her sitting beside him was enough for him at the moment anyway.

“Did he find something?” Chopper’s voice sounded beside the cruiser, and Sanji looked up to find the little reindeer sitting on Zoro’s shoulders. Both of his crewmates were carrying various fruits and plants, and Sanji’s mouth stretched in a grin that showed most of his teeth. 

“He did.” The cook handed the doctor the berries. “When we come back through here, we need to gather as much of these as we can. The flowers on top I mean.”

Chopper waved his arms, dropping some of the things he held, but Zoro caught them deftly in his quick hands even as he held onto the cruiser’s side. “Those berries! I can use those! I can make a topical cream for skin rashes!” The doctor took the berry cluster from Sanji’s fingers and crushed one between his hoofs. His eyes sparkled as he studied the pulp excitedly. 

Zoro deposited the various fruits in one of the bins Franky attached to the side of the cruiser. He then lifted Chopper onto the front seat next to Robin. Unencumbered, he jogged beside the vehicle, his hand resting precariously on the hilts of his swords.

Eyeing the swordsman curiously, Sanji leaned down to speak softly out of earshot from the rest of the crew.

“Something wrong?”

Zoro watched the landscape. The trees were few and far between and the brush was sparse, there were not many places an enemy could hide themselves, but then again you never knew. They had fought some pretty interesting types after all.

“Don’t think so,” Zoro muttered. “Just… something’s… off.”

“Off?” Sanji frowned and started to pull off the blanket. “Like off how?”

A strong hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him from standing. Zoro didn’t look at him, but held him down as his eyes stayed searching the area carefully.

“Don’t get up. It’s not here… More like… we’re walking into something ahead.”

Nami leaned over, snorting in amusement. “Of course we’re walking into something. We’re searching for treasure. If there aren’t people there to guard it, there will at least be all kinds of booby traps.”

Her hair smelled like strawberries as she leaned over him, and her hand brushed his thigh gently. Sanji’s eyes turned into hearts at the slight touch.

“Nami-swan~!” he squirmed in his seat. “You’re so smart~!”

Zoro made a huff noise from beside them and growled something inaudible. 

“What was that, Marimo?” Sanji teased.

“Nothing, idiot-cook.”

Robin and Nami’s translation of the map proved to be spot on, and the crew passed several clearly defined landmarks before arriving at what they guessed was the underwater archway. Franky slowed the cruiser to a halt and everyone climbed off to get a better look.

Sanji was calculating how to climb down from the cruiser without popping stitches, when Zoro moved to offer his shoulder as a support. The cook froze for a moment as the gesture momentarily stunned him. The swordsman was also making it look like he was focused on something else, so if Sanji wanted to play it off as just merely chance and save face, then he could. This simple act of collaboration and understanding was just one more to add to the rapidly growing list of strange yet nice things Zoro had started to do for him. 

He placed a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, and hopped down from the cruiser. Zoro then moved away without saying a word, so Sanji pulled out his pack and lighter without pause. As he breathed in the smoke, thankful that Chopper was too distracted at the moment to notice, he studied Zoro’s back as he bopped Luffy on the head for some minor offence.

By no means was Sanji ungrateful, but the cook was a little confounded by the swordsman’s recent behavior. Sanji knew had been injured much worse before—like the time on Drum Island, or Skypeia for instance, but Zoro had never acknowledged it like this. Was it just because they were semi-friends now? Maybe Zoro was feeling sorry for him? He hoped that wasn’t the case. Recovering from an injury was one thing, but appearing weak? No. That wasn’t something the cook wanted to contemplate. Maybe there something else there that Sanji just hadn’t picked up on yet? He doubted it, Zoro wasn’t _that_ hard to read, but there seemed like there was something Sanji should be seeing and he just wasn’t.

Then a thought struck the cook. Maybe Zoro was trying to repay Sanji for his actions after Thriller Bark? It was a long shot, because Sanji had been sure Zoro was unconscious, but… maybe? Had he heard the things Sanji had said at his bedside? Was Zoro trying to ante up?

For some unfathomable reason, that thought made Sanji a little sad, and he crushed his half-spent cigarette out and slipped it back into his pack. He moved slowly to join the others huddled around Robin and Nami and pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

For now.

* * * *

Everyone was silent as Franky operated the controls to the underwater camera. Robin watched intently at the screen, snapping pictures here and there when something caught her attention. Nami watched as well at her side, making quick notes on the map, and made several small pleased noises in the back of her throat.

“From what I can see,” Robin said, finally, “what we thought was the stone archway is, in fact, some kind of support. There’s a long tunnel going deep into that rock face, and the arch is the entrance. I would suspect that there’s something underneath that mountain.” She straightened and motioned to the wall of land and rock stretching towards the sky several miles away.

“Yay!” Luffy cried. “We’re going swimming!” 

“We are!?” Chopper wailed.

“No,” Nami said firmly and a cluster of arms and hands caught the rubbery captain as he jumped from the cruiser. He hung in mid-air over the water, a confused expression pulling at his features. 

Rolling the map, Nami tucked it underneath her arm, and took the viewer screen from Robin. “I figured this was going to happen, so I had Franky modify the cruiser.”

Franky pulled out a small device, pressed a button, and a thick, rounded, glass covering slid over the top of the vehicle. “Water tight, air enough for eight and a half hours—of course, I hadn’t really planned on having all nine of us inside at once, so maybe… six hours?”

“Eight of us!” Brook chimed in. “I don’t need air! I have no lungs! Yohohoho!”

“Super!” Franky gave the musician thumbs up. “That’ll help.”

“It won’t matter, Franky,” Nami said over her shoulder. “The tunnel’s only going to be a couple miles long, so unless that thing crawls, we should be fine.”

“All right!” Luffy bounced excitedly. “Let’s get going!”

The crew piled into the makeshift submarine, and Franky nosed it forward into the water. As soon as it was fully submerged, the wheels retracted, and eight long, metal legs unfolded from the side. The lights came on, and the Strawhats found themselves gliding through the water smoothly as the legs propelled them.

“This is awesome, Franky!” Luffy exclaimed with stars in his eyes.

“Thanks,” the cyborg said happily. “I call it _Cruiser Reconnaissance and Below Surface Modified_ , but we could just call it C.R.A.B. for short.”

“Yes,” Brook tapped his boney fingers on the control panel merrily, “C.R.A.B. is good. Easier.”

“It doesn’t really look like a crab,” Usopp remarked.

“Crab?” Luffy cried. “Dang, now I’m hungry!” 

“Nice going,” Nami muttered. “Now we have to listen to his bellyaching the whole way.”

“Fear not, Nami-swan~!” Sanji reached underneath his seat, and pulled out a large cooler. “I have brought snacks for everyone, and meat for the Captain~! Do you love me now for remembering~?”

Zoro rolled his eyes and turned to look out the makeshift window. Chopper had climbed into his lap, and was watching excitedly at the various fish and plant life that floated by the glass.

“This is so amazing, Zoro,” the little reindeer said quietly. “This is as close to swimming in the ocean as I’ll ever get.”

Zoro looked down at his small crewmate and patted the top of his pink hat. “Ocean’s not that great. You can’t see anything. The only reason we can see the fish and stuff now is because of Franky’s lights.”

Chopper nodded. “Yeah... maybe I just want to because I can’t.”

The swordsman and doctor sat the rest of the way in silence, nibbling on the snacks that Sanji had so thoughtfully brought. How and when the cook had packed them was a mystery to Zoro, but he didn’t think much of it as he dozed in his seat. Chopper snuggled against his chest and snored softly, despite the noise the rest of the crew was making.

When Zoro opened his eyes, the others had calmed down, having either fallen asleep as well, or were talking in hushed voices. A warm weight against Zoro’s side made the swordsman lift his head off the glass where it had fallen. He wasn’t surprised to find Sanji slumped against him, breathing softly, and curled into the blanket Chopper had insisted they bring along. 

It was a vulnerable, trusting position, and it made the swordsman’s heart do funny things in his chest. The damn cook switched from girl-worship to Zoro-cuddling like it was the most natural thing in the world. How annoying.

“Stupid cook,” he growled.

“I heard that.” Sanji mumbled. “Idiot swordsman.”

For some reason, that made Zoro smile, and he settled back into his seat to go back to sleep.

* * * *

“Oh, wow…”

Sanji woke, warm and comfortable against Zoro and serving as a pillow for Chopper’s feet. He opened his eyes and tried to make sense of what was happening towards the front of the vehicle.

Franky, Brook, and Nami were all huddled around the controls, looking up through the glass as Usopp and Luffy hung from shoulders trying to get a better view of whatever had caught their attention.

“It’s huge! How did they build that?” Usopp was shouting.

“I have no idea,” Nami held Luffy steady with her arm so he wouldn’t go barreling over onto the controls. “Let’s just wait until we get there.”

“What’s happening?” Sanji yawned and sat up straight.

“Oi! Sanji!” Luffy exclaimed. “You gotta see this! Look up over there!” 

Sanji looked where the captain was pointing and stilled. The submarine was rising slowly and heading toward a wide opening in a stone surface.

“What the hell?” the cook breathed.

“What is that?” Zoro growled beside him. When the cook looked back down, he found Zoro sitting up, his hand hovering over the hilts of his swords. Chopper still sat in his lap, but the look of tired contentment was gone and was replaced by one of fear.

“It’s okay, you guys,” Franky said. “It’s a docking platform.”

“What?” Sanji made a face. “I thought we were underneath a mountain.”

“We are,” Nami’s voice was high in her excitement. “It looks like there’s some kind of underground structure.”

“So where’s the light coming from?” Usopp asked.

“It’s most likely artificial.” Robin said. “Judging by the time, the sun should have set an hour ago.”

The Strawhats watched as the opening became wider and wider. The submarine neared the top, and light from above shone clear as a brilliant summer day through the glass. They had to shield their eyes from the glare as they broke the surface, but as they adjusted, a city of stone and marble came into focus. Towering buildings covered in greens and blues filled the space above their heads in a circular pattern.

“Oh my goodness!” Robin breathed. “The city is carved from the inside of the mountain!”

“SO COOL!” Luffy exclaimed.

As they gawked at the city above them, Chopper’s panicked voice rang out through the cockpit.

“Oh no! Look!”

Seven pairs of eyes (and one hollowed set of sockets) turned to where the little doctor was pointing. 

“Oh crap,” Usopp moaned.

Standing on carved stone, were more than a hundred men dressed in identical uniforms. Most held swords or spears, but at least a third of them had arrows cocked in deadly long bows, their pointed tips aimed directly at the Strawhats.

“Franky, open the hatch!” Luffy bounced, seemingly unaware of the imminent danger.

“What!” Nami shouted. “Are you crazy!? They’ll shoot us!”

“No they won’t, they’re just making sure we’re not trying to steal from them.”

Nami turned and grabbed Luffy by the collar and shook him.

“ _But we are trying to steal from them!_ ” she screeched. 

“Nami,” Zoro said calmly, and all eyes turned to the swordsman. “Let Franky open the hatch, and if Luffy’s wrong, then I’ll stop the arrows.”

“I will assist you, Zoro,” Brook added calmly.

Sanji nodded, wishing he could light up. “Might as well. We made it all this way, and sitting here doing nothing is lame.”

Nami looked at Luffy, and then back at Zoro and sighed. “All right, do it. But if I get hit, I promise I’ll raise your debt so high you’ll _never_ be able to pay it back.” 

Sanji heard Zoro scoff. “Whatever.”

Franky shrugged his shoulders and pushed a series of buttons. “Opening the hatch now.”

The moment there was enough space for Luffy to fit himself through the top, the captain had stretched his arms, grabbing the nearest soldier by the shoulders, and had sprung out of the hatch. He flew through the air, laughing and shouting merrily.

“Hey, underground mountain people!!!”

The crew shouted as one. “ _GOD DAMNIT, LUFFY!!!_ ”

* * * *

It was a damn good thing the people of the mountain city were a special kind of chill. Not only had they _not_ attacked the Strawhat’s fanatical captain, after he had so unceremoniously flung himself in their direction, but they had welcomed the crew with open arms. Supposedly, the soldiers had “seen Luffy’s genuine smile” as he had flown through the air, and that had been enough to stop them from sending arrows flying through his heart. In fact, the soldier Luffy had used to launch himself out of C.R.A.B. had fallen to the ground laughing right along with the rubber man. By the time the others had exited the submarine and set foot on the carved stone of the underground, the entire company of soldiers was chortling and complementing Luffy on his bizarre Devil’s Fruit power.

“Oh my god,” Nami had breathed as she exited the cockpit. “We’ve discovered an entire culture of Luffies…”

Franky and Brook had taken to the mountain people almost as fast as Luffy, and Usopp had almost cried with joy at the revelation that they were not, in fact, going to have to fight their way out. Nami, Chopper, and Robin were more careful, hanging back until they were approached, but the comments on the little doctor’s “cute nose” and “adorable hat” had the reindeer squirming in Robin’s arms, shouting obscenities at the soldier’s for complementing him. 

Zoro stood his ground, watching as civilians joined the ranks of soldiers to welcome their guests. Flowers were strung and placed around the Strawhat’s necks, fresh water was offered, and when mentions of “a meal” hit Luffy’s ears, it was over. Franky hit a button on his control, and C.R.A.B. locked onto the dock. They were going to stay a while. 

That same apprehension that had settled over the swordsman on their journey here came back in full. Suddenly Zoro was hit with an intensely sinister premonition that this place was not what it seemed. 

After bending graciously, yet warily, to accept a flower necklace from a young girl, Zoro’s heart skipped and he froze.

Where was the cook?

The swordsman looked around, not frantically—not yet, but he saw nothing of the black suit or head of blond hair he was so used to seeing during a battle. Not that this was a battle, but Sanji’s presence was a constant that Zoro was finding he couldn’t do without. He searched, scanning the crowd casually, and took a few steps back.

But then cigarette smoke invaded his nostrils, and he physically relaxed. Zoro turned around and let out a not-so-steady breath. Sanji was still inside C.R.A.B., reclined on the leather seat, one long leg crossed over the other, his ankle resting on the opposite knee. If not for the cigarette, the cook could have been asleep. 

“Oi,” Zoro growled, hiding his brief stint of panic underneath annoyance, “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Sanji’s curly eyebrow twitched and he took another drag. “Shut up, shitty swordsman. The smell is making me nauseous.”

Zoro breathed in, a frown creasing his forehead. “What smell?”

Sanji’s eyes opened and he glared at the swordsman. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t smell that?”

“All I smell is your stupid smoke, cook.”

Sanji looked at Zoro like he had an arm growing from the center of his forehead. He blinked once and sat forward carefully. “You’re seriously telling me you don’t smell that sweet, kind of sick smell? It’s like rotten garlic only ten thousand times worse.”

Zoro crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. I don’t.”

Sanji shook his head and crushed the butt of his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe. “Whatever, Marimo. But you might want to have Chopper check that out when we get back.”

Something cold dropped into the pit of Zoro’s stomach and he put an arm out to stop the cook from leaving the submarine.

“What if it’s you?”

Sanji frowned at him. “Excuse me?”

Zoro resisted the urge to clear his throat uncomfortably. “What if it’s a side effect from the surgery? Maybe you have some kind of infection and so now you’re smelling smells that aren’t really there.”

Sanji rolled his eyes and shoved past him. “Don’t be retarded. I can tell if what I smell is real or not. Working with smell is part of what I do.”

Worried, and trying to not act like he was worried, Zoro followed the cook out and stood beside him on the dock. Sanji pulled another cigarette from his pack, but stopped from lighting it as a young girl approached and offered him a string of blue flowers. The cook burst into a series of overblown compliments that Zoro tuned out. After placing the flowers around Sanji’s neck, the girl blushed at the cook’s lavish greetings and smiled sweetly as she returned to the crowd.

When she was gone, the mooning stopped, and a fresh cigarette was lit.

“I don’t like this,” Sanji said softly.

Zoro glanced at him out the corner of his eye. “Me either.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” Sanji continued. “They have a heavily equipped army, but what’s the point if they’re just going to welcome everyone in without question?”

“They’re so friendly,” Zoro muttered, “it’s almost like…”

“They’re _too_ friendly.” Sanji finished for him.

Zoro nodded. “Something’s off.”

“I agree.”

“I guess we’ll just go with it for now,” Zoro murmured. “Something comes up, we can just improvise.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sanji took one last drag and crushed the butt under his shoe. He then straightened his jacket and headed off to greet the mountain people and over-charm the ladies.

Zoro followed slowly, thinking that this was a bad idea. But then again, when did the Strawhats _ever_ do _anything_ that could be considered a good idea?

* * * *

The mountain people called themselves the Polluge. Their history, as they explained to Robin, went back hundreds of generations. They were master builders and stone carvers and had been thriving underground for centuries, away from the political warfare and uncertain times of the “surface”. They were extremely friendly people, and admitted to having a population that was almost a quarter “surface dwellers”. From what Robin and Nami gathered, it seemed that this underground city was like a utopia, and many a traveler had found peace and contentment here.

The crew was invited to stay as long as they liked, to do whatever they liked, and to partake in any and everything that there was to offer. The king of the Polluge, Hatmet, was a plump, kindly, grandfather type. He offered rooms in his palace for the Strawhats to sleep, and invited them to join him for dinner at his royal table. 

The generosity combined with the beautiful scenery, and even more beautiful women, almost had Sanji convinced.

Almost.

If it wasn’t for that damned smell, everything would have been okay. It turned out Sanji was the only one of the crew that smelled it. Even Chopper with his sensitive nose smelled nothing more than the natural, earthy scent of the city.

“What?” Chopper had looked up at him with his big eyes full of concern. “Do you smell something strange, Sanji?”

“No, no!” Sanji waved his hands, not wishing to worry the little doctor. “Nothing! I was just commenting on the wonderful… clean smell of… everything…”

Chopper had smiled then, and continued to follow the guards down the long corridor and into the king’s formal dining room. The windows were tall to let in the artificial light from above. The table was low, and lavish cushions were spread out for seating. The king welcomed them heartily and insisted they sit and converse before the food was brought in. Sanji relaxed a little at the mention of food, and lowered himself onto one of the soft, embroidered, pillows.

A platter of breads and cheeses was brought out as an appetizer, and wine was poured. Luffy attacked the platter like his very life depended on it, and Zoro, Brook, and Franky were happy to sample the wine. Sanji tried bits of the different cheeses and made approving comments to the servers to take back to the kitchens.

“Your Majesty, if I may?” Robin asked politely when they were all arranged and seated. 

“Of course!” the king chortled, holding up his glass. “You said you had questions for me, lovely lady. I will answer to the best of my knowledge.”

Robin bowed her head graciously. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I was wondering how you are able to get your crops to grow without true sunlight.”

“Ah,” Hatmet nodded. “A fine question. My great, great, great grandfather worked with a team of men to create lighting that stimulates the chlorophyll the same way the sun does. I don’t know all the details, but I do know that during photosynthesis, the carbon dioxide can have the same reaction to the energy…”

Sanji tuned them out. He was feeling much better. Why had he felt wary about this place before? The people were great! They were doing everything to make his crew feel at home, and damn it all if it wasn’t working. The cook was feeling so good, in fact, that he didn’t even flinch when a male server touched him gently on the arm before he stood to retrieve more wine. Right off the bat, Sanji had noticed the people here were very sense oriented. Touching each other appeared to be quite common and accepted. The lingering had unnerved him at first, but now it really didn’t seem to matter anymore. When the servers brought out more platters of fruits and sauces, the hands that settled on his back were welcome. Sanji didn’t mind. What as a little touching? They were treating them all so well, it would be rude to complain.

“And rain?” Nami asked. “What about rain? Where do you get your fresh water?”

Did Nami always pout her lips like that when she talked? There was no way she did, Sanji would have noticed. And the easy way she was leaning on the table, her arms folded, her body loose… Was she drunk? Sanji couldn’t remember a time when he had seen Nami drunk.

“Oi! Sanji!” Luffy cried from across the table. “This is soooo good! It’s not as good as your cooking, but it’s close, huh?”

Sanji turned to his captain, smiling. His body felt light. “Nope. Not as good as mine. You’re right, Luffy. But I agree. It is quite good.”

“Sanji!” Chopper leaned in Sanji’s direction and held up what looked like a small, red, banana. “What is this?”

Sanji took the fruit. He studied it carefully, peeling back the skin and marveling at the soft inside. He took a bite, and groaned approvingly at the mildly sweet and tangy flavor.

“I have no idea, Chopper,” he answered, “but it’s really good.”

Dinner was served quickly after that. The food was excellent, and Robin and Nami ran out of questions during the main course. The crew happily stuffed themselves, and laughed as Usopp told an outrageous story about how he had once found a city much like this one underneath a lake back in his hometown. Apparently, one summer while he was growing up, the long-nosed man had saved the inhabitants of the city from a swarm of monstrous, flesh-eating crickets. 

The king had laughed with them well into the evening, but as the artificial light faded, and fires were lit throughout the streets, Hatmet excused himself. He claimed he was old and needed his rest, but would love to give them all a grand tour of the city the next morning. Nami looked to Luffy, fat and snoring happily on the pile of cushions, and nodded. “That sounds wonderful, thank you, Your Majesty.”

When servants arrived to show the crew to their rooms, Sanji and Usopp linked arms, and sang a song as they were escorted through the halls. Nami and Franky joined in, as did several of the guards along the way. Luffy snored contentedly on Zoro’s back as the swordsman carried him, but he didn’t seem that put out about it. In fact, Zoro had the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips as he watched his crewmates sing and dance their way through the castle.

When the servants brought them to a circular chamber, the youngest of them motioned with her hands. “This is your common area. Seating arrangements and tables have been brought if you wish to dine here, and those four doors are your rooms. We thought as a crew, you would all want to be placed close together. Your luggage has also been brought from your boat.”

“Thank you,” Nami smiled sweetly. She picked up her bag from the pile, and motioned to Robin. “I’m beat. Let’s go get some shut-eye.”

Before Sanji could stop the words, they were falling out of his mouth. “Nami-swan~! I will stay with you two beautiful ladies~! Someone needs to protect you should someone come visiting in the middle of the night~!”

Nami laughed. “Chopper called it first, Sanji-kun. Rain check? Tomorrow?”

Sanji practically passed out with happiness. Hearts fluttered above his head, and he spun in a circle as he praised Nami and her kindness. In the back of his mind, something told him that was a strange response coming from Nami, but he really paid it no mind. He was too relaxed, and was having too much fun to really care about nagging feelings that were so minor they almost didn’t exist.

“Well,” Brook said with a twirl of his cane, “I dub this room, the ‘over-thirty room’. Come, Franky. Let us retire.”

“Super!!” Franky shouted, grabbing his bag and following the skeleton.

When there were just four of them left, Usopp looked at Sanji, and then at Zoro. 

“You’re gonna make me sleep with him, huh?” Usopp asked.

Zoro and Sanji both smiled and nodded.

Usopp sighed. “Okay, I guess this is the ‘boy’s room’ then.” He hid a small grin as he carefully took Luffy from Zoro’s shoulders and dragged him across the common area. “Night,” he said softly before closing the door.

Sanji pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He chuckled softly. “So, if that’s the ‘ladies room,” motioning to Nami and Robin’s door, “and that’s the ‘over-thirty room’,” he pointed to Brook and Franky’s door, “and that’s the ‘boy’s room’,” motioning to Usopp and Luffy’s, “then this last one must be-”

“-The men’s room,” Zoro cracked, as he headed over the threshold.

Inside, the furnishings were just as lavish as the dining room. Two large beds covered in satin sheets and embroidered pillows sat against the far wall. The rugs were thick and soft. A platter of fruit and a decanter of red wine sat on a low table. There was a washroom to the left, complete with a large bathtub and sink carved into the stone of the walls. 

“Wow,” Sanji breathed as he draped his suit jacket over the back of a chair, “this is so nice.”

Zoro grunted in agreement. “I never thought a city made out of rock could be so… comfortable.”

Sanji set the cooler on the floor by the table and crushed his cigarette out on an empty plate. He moved to one of the beds and flopped down on his back. Admiring the intricate carvings on the ceiling, he laced his arms behind his head and spoke to Zoro who was already helping himself to the wine.

“Still feeling weird about this place?”

Zoro snorted. “Hell no. Why would I feel weird about this place?”

Sanji rubbed at his eyes. “Well, you said earlier that you had a weird feeling.”

Zoro tossed back his glass and moved to the second bed. “No I didn’t. You were dreaming, cook.”

Sanji closed his eyes, certain that the conversation earlier had not been a dream, but then again he could be wrong. He was recovering from surgery and Zoro wasn’t. It was probably a good idea to listen to the swordsman. Besides, he felt way too good to worry about it at the moment anyway.

The cook sighed and rolled to his stomach. “I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time.”

Zoro made another noise that Sanji supposed was an agreement. The two lay for a few minutes in comfortable silence before the swordsman spoke.

“Hey, Sanji,” he said softly.

“Hm?”

Zoro was quiet for a beat, but then he asked. “Are you feeling better? I mean, really feeling better?”

A smile played across Sanji’s lips, he couldn’t stop it. “Aw, you worried about me, Marimo?”

“Maybe a little.”

Sanji opened his one eye, turning slightly to look at the other man reclined on the opposite bed. He couldn’t seem to remember if the swordsman was typically this open when they talked. Didn’t they usually fight? Argue? Have miscommunication problems?

Maybe that had been a dream too.

“Going soft on me, Zoro?” Sanji asked.

“No,” the swordsman answered easily. “I think I’m drunk.”

Sanji sat up. “No way. You had barely a bottle during dinner, I paid attention.”

Zoro opened his eyes and looked at Sanji. “Strong wine.”

“There isn’t a wine on the planet that could get you drunk in just a couple glasses.”

Zoro shrugged and rolled to his side to face Sanji. “Whatever. I’m feeling loose and… floaty. And that stupid thing that happens when you’re drunk, you know, that thing where you think something and then a second later you realize you didn’t think it, you actually said it?”

“Yeah, I hate that.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda feeling that right now.”

Sanji frowned. “Huh… maybe you are drunk…”

Zoro nodded. “Right, so now it’s time for sleep.”

Sanji nodded, it sounded like a great idea. The bed was basically calling his name. He toed off his shoes and scooted up to relax against the pillows. He had a fleeting thought that there was something he had wanted to ask Zoro, but at the moment, he couldn’t remember what it was.

Sighing contentedly, Sanji closed his eyes. He would have to ask the king if it was okay to take some of the Polluge’s strange fruits with them. First, it was the mutant grape Roronoas, and now there were red bananas that tasted like apples, and Sanji was sure he had seen something that looked like a cross between a pineapple and a plum at dinner. Oh, the things he would cook when they were back on the ship!

“Hey, Sanji…” Zoro said softly, his voice heavy with almost-sleep.

“Hm?” Sanji hummed.

“We should stay here…” the swordsman mumbled into the sheets.

Sanji smiled as sleep started creeping around the edges of his consciousness. “What do you mean, Marimo?”

“I mean,” Zoro whispered, “we should stay here. Live here. You could make some crazy-ass food, and I could train the soldiers in three sword style. It would be awesome…”

Sanji chuckled, and shook his head. “You _are_ drunk. What about Luffy?”

“What about… Luffy…” then Zoro was asleep, snoring deeply.

If sleep hadn’t been pulling him down so quickly, Sanji might have thought through Zoro’s words. He might have noticed that the smell, which had made him so nauseous earlier, had all but disappeared. If only the cook had trusted his instincts, if only he had trusted _Zoro’s_ instincts, Sanji might not have come so close to losing his entire crew for good.

TBC


	6. Ominous

When Sanji woke the next morning he was alone. He turned his head slowly to check out the bed opposite his. The covers were straightened and the pillows were straight and fluffed. Sanji chuckled softly at the image of Zoro meticulously making the bed before he left for the day. Yawning, Sanji stretched carefully, mindful of the stitches in his side, and sat up. 

The smell hit him like a punch in the face.

That same odor of rotten garlic and old rice was twice as powerful as it had been the day before. Sanji flew off the bed and into the bathroom, pushing through the door and retching once into the sink. The strain on his muscles pulled at the stitches in his incision, sending sharp pain shooting through his side. He clamped his jaw shut and took several deep breaths to will himself calm. When he stood and returned to the bedroom, he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt sleeve.

“Oh my God…” he growled. “What the hell is that?”

He picked up his lighter and cigarette pack and returned to the bathroom. He closed the door and lit up. A minute or two later, the rotten smell was masked by burning tobacco, and Sanji could think straight once again.

How could his crew stand the smell? Well, they probably couldn’t smell it. But if they couldn’t smell it, why could he? What the hell was going on in this town? Why did he feel like he had a hangover?

And _holy god_ why was he so hungry?

He bathed quickly and changed into an offered clean pair of shorts and a polo, breathing as little as possible. Sandals were also provided, and when he left the room, he took a handkerchief with him and held it over his nose and mouth. Making his way through the shared lounge, Sanji noticed a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on the table and his mouth watered greedily. He snagged a few choice items that looked like crosses between strawberries and dates. He popped a few into his mouth underneath the kerchief and let the mild flavors run over his tongue. His mind calculated different sauces and stuffing he could do with the fruits of this mountain town as he made his way towards what he thought was the commons. He needed to find someone from his crew so he could get a ride back to the _Sunny_.

As Sanji walked and ate, he started to feel better. The dull pounding in his head subsided and his stomach settled. Soon, he felt more like his normal self. He slowed his steps and let himself admire the stone castle as he made his way through the corridors. With the pain out of the way, and the nausea gone, everything seemed a little less urgent. What had he been so worried about again? Oh yeah, the smell.

Taking the handkerchief away from his nose for just a moment, Sanji tested the air. The smell was still there, but it was only mildly unpleasant. He could at least function like he had yesterday. 

“Sanji!” a voice called from behind.

Sanji turned, and saw a young man dressed in the house uniform. He walked quickly in Sanji’s direction and smiled merrily as he approached.

“Sanji, sir, I am Leon. The staff has been instructed to attend to whatever you desire. Are you perhaps hungry? I can escort you to our private dining room if you wish.”

Sanji smiled and slipped his hands in his pockets. “That would be great. I’m starved.”

“Of course, sir,” Leon said as he led the way down the hall, “I can only imagine after such a long rest.”

Sanji followed, confused at the young man’s words. “It couldn’t have been that long. Ten, twelve hours? Hard to tell without the sun.”

Leon looked at Sanji over his shoulder, a peculiar look on his plain face. “Sir, you have been asleep for several days.”

Sanji stopped abruptly. “Excuse me?”

Leon turned around. “Do not worry, sir, your doctor had a look at you and said you would be fine after a nice, long rest. He said you needed it after your surgery.”

Sanji was flustered. “Well, yeah, but several days!? Me and my crew have a habit of stirring up trouble, or trouble finds us, or we just happen to walk in on civil wars or zombie-infested graveyards everywhere we go! What if something had happened while I was out!? What if my crew was in danger and I just slept it all away while-”

“I assure you, sir,” Leon put up his hands, “nothing of consequence ever happens here. No wars, no conflicts, we are a peaceful people. Your crew is well. Your doctor took good care of you, and your friend watched over you almost the entire time to make sure you were all right.”

Sanji closed his mouth on another slew of worries before spilled from his lips. He stood for a moment, feeling useless and a fool. The thought that he had been incapacitated for such a significant amount of time ate at his insides.

“My uh…” he murmured, trying to change the subject. “My friend?”

Leon nodded, his smile widening. “Yes, your first mate. Zoro, I believe is his name?” 

Well, that did it. Sanji’s worries about the missing time went completely out of his head as his jaw dropped to the floor.

“Z…Zoro?” he stammered. “Zoro watched over me? Are you sure?”

Leon nodded, motioning for Sanji to continue following him down the corridor. “Yes, the green-haired fellow? He was quite insistent actually. Couldn’t get him to eat anything for the longest time. All he wanted to do was sit in your room and wait for you to wake up.”

Sanji’s head spun. Why had Zoro sat with him? Wasn’t that kind of Chopper’s job? And he _insisted?_ What the hell? Why had Zoro done that? 

Sighing, Sanji followed Leon to the kitchens. Hopefully, everything would be a little clearer after he had gotten some food in him.

* * * *

After filling himself with soup, breads, cheeses, all combinations and variations of applegrapes, orangepears, kiwibananas, and several other strange concoctions, Sanji conversed with the chefs merrily about the mountain people’s traditional dishes. The Strawhat cook discovered, with no small surprise, that the Polluge were vegetarian. They didn’t believe in any sort of violence except in self defense, so killing animals was prohibited within the mountain walls. Their diets consisted entirely of grains, fruits, and dairy. Not even fishing was permitted. Sanji surmised they were getting enough protein, but he was still intrigued to find an entire culture that didn’t eat meat.

When he had thoroughly drilled everyone on the kitchen staff, Sanji thanked them kindly and headed to the outer courtyard where he had been told his friends were lounging. Sure enough, as the cook left the long, stone corridor and stepped out into the warm, artificial lighting, he heard the sounds of laughter followed by playful screams and splashing.

“Luffy!” Usopp’s voice shrieked happily. “Do it again!”

“ _Gomu Gomu no…_ ” Luffy cried. “SLINGSHOT!”

Sanji came around the stone wall and shot a quick glance at the antics happening in the pool, but his real attention was on the two beautiful ladies reclining on beach chairs. Robin was adorable in a black halter top, and a pair of shorts that functioned more like a thong, while Nami was breathtaking, practically spilling out of a red and yellow bikini.

“Good morning my lovely flowers~!” Sanji crooned, his usual enthusiasm dampened only a little by the nauseating smell. “How are the two most beautiful women in the world doing today~?”

The girls turned to him as he approached and smiled brightly. “Sanji-kun!” Nami cried. 

“Sanji!?” Luffy yelped from the water. “Hey Sanji! You woke up!”

Sanji waved to Luffy, Usopp, and Franky as the three started singing Sanji a victory song. Fortunately, they only got through one verse and part of a chorus before Luffy decided it was time to return to their previous dunking. 

“Sanji,” Nami said, “I’m so glad you’re up. Come sit with us. Are you feeling better?”

Sanji sat on the beach chair beside the red head and slipped his feet out of the sandals. “Much better now that I’m with you two beautiful ladies.”

Nami giggled. “Aw, Sanji you’re so cute.”

 _Woa, really?_ Sanji faltered for a fraction of an instant. _When had Nami ever responded to his overblown antics?_

“How is your injury, Sanji?” Robin asked as she leaned over Nami. “Chopper said you sleeping so long would speed up the recovery.”

Sanji blinked, still a little dazed by the way Nami was looking at him. “Um… it’s fine. I poked at it a little in the shower and it seems to be healing up like any other scrape.”

“Ah, I’m glad to hear it,” the brunette said in a voice like melted chocolate.

Nami pulled her sunglasses from where they had perched on her head and twirled them in her fingers. “So, there’s games in a few hours. Are you going to join in?”

Feeling uncomfortable, but not entirely sure why, Sanji swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Uh, maybe. Not sure if my stitches are healed up _that_ well.”

“Zoro always plays,” Robin perked up. “I’m sure he’d be excited if you joined him.”

Sanji thought about the last time he had played games with the Strawhat crew present. Zoro and him had made a pretty unbeatable team, but that had been different circumstances. The Polluge would no dount have a completely different set of rules. Well, hopefully.

“Yeah, Sanji,” Nami brushed his arm with a manicured fingertip. “It’d be fun. Robin and I would cheer for you two.” 

Sanji started, freezing at the light touch from his ship’s navigator. When had Nami ever touched him casually before? Of all the members of the crew, Nami stayed quite clear of him unless in the midst of a battle. Sanji crooned and sang and praised her with flowery compliments on a regular basis and she tolerated it, but there was still an unspoken, firmly placed set of rules between the two of them. Sanji never touched unless it was absolutely necessary, and Nami never touched period. Sanji had these rules because he respected Nami just as much as any rubber-bodied pirate captain.

So what the hell was happening now? 

Sanji turned to Robin for distraction, but at that moment the brunette did something that set every alarm in Sanji’s body that wasn’t already going off into the red. As Sanji opened his mouth to say something, Robin carefully, meticulously, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and gently bit her bottom lip.

Time seemed to stop. Whatever Sanji had been about to say, died an awful, painful death in his throat. Suddenly he understood why he felt so uncomfortable, why this conversation was so strange.

Nami and Robin were flirting with him.

Sanji glanced back at the navigator just in time to dodge her fingers reaching to brush his bangs away from his forehead. He shot to his feet, his face burning and his muscles almost snapping from the tension pulling him in every direction.

“I gotta um…” he stammered as he fumbled to slip his sandals back on. “I think the games sound like a great idea! I’ll just go find Zoro! Do you know where he is? Never mind I’ll find him myself! OkaythanksbyeI’llseeyoulater!”

He turned on his heel and jogged back to the stone corridor. When he was out of eyeshot from his crew, he leaned against the wall and took in a few deep, calming breaths. 

_What the hell is going on?_

* * * *

Chopper was surrounded by children when Sanji found him in the courtyard. The little reindeer had a slew of large canvas papers and small tubs of paint spread out in front of him. He was laughing and instructing a little girl on the basics of finger painting as Sanji approached. 

Sanji slowed his stride when he saw how happy Chopper was in the midst of all that innocence and unrestrained joy. Maybe this was one of those moments that you didn’t break up. Maybe if his crew had managed to not get themselves killed during the last few days, maybe Sanji could wait another hour or so before he broke up the perfectly happy afternoon.

As Chopper turned to dip his hoof into the blue tub, his eyes lifted, and he spotted Sanji watching him.

“SANJI!” the little reindeer called out.

Much maneuvering and promises of hugs when Chopper wasn’t covered in paint later, Sanji managed to calm the little doctor down enough so they could talk normally.

“Does it itch?” Chopper asked. “Is there any pain in your lower back? Are you still tired at all? Did you eat something? Make sure you’re drinking, because if you don’t get enough fluids your body will-”

“I know, Chopper!” Sanji said gently. “I’m fine, buddy, just relax. I just came to say hi. Nothing’s hurting or sore or anything like that.”

Chopper blinked. “It’s not even itching?”

Sanji shook his head.

Chopper looked perplexed. “Well, that’s not good. But at least there’s no pain.”

Sanji slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled softly. “You’re a mess.”

Chopper grinned. “I know. The kids are great. I’ve been doing an hour a day with them, just some basic education stuff about things like proper hand washing and flossing. Then we play.”

Sanji chuckled. “Well, sounds like you’re having a great time.”

Chopper nodded happily. “It’s gonna be even better when we remodel the clinic. I’ll teach classes a couple times a week. The people here are really healthy, but their dental work could use some improvement.”

Suddenly the artificial air didn’t seem so warm. Something in Chopper’s words had set those alarm bells off in Sanji’s head again. The cook fingered his lighter in his pocket and wet his lips.

“Remodel the clinic?”

“Yes!” Chopper sang happily. “It’s really just a small, dysfunctional space right now, but Franky, Usopp and I have made some great plans. We want to add a few examination rooms, a bigger office, and a better supply area.”

Sanji frowned. “That’s kind of a big project. How long is that going to take?”

Chopper shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s not like we don’t have enough time though, with Luffy talking about staying here and all.”

The alarms were in the red again. “S… staying here?” Sanji choked out. “For how long?”

Chopper frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Sanji blinked. Whatever had happened to Nami and Robin, had also happened to Chopper. The little reindeer was under whatever spell the girls were under. There was no point in trying to explain or reason with him.

“Um, it’s nothing,” Sanji said carefully. “I’m totally excited for the remodel. You uh… keep me posted. Okay?” 

Chopper’s smile returned. “I will. I’ll see you later, Sanji.”

Sanji nodded to his friend and turned away with a sick feeling starting in the pit of his stomach. There was something happening in this mountain city, something ominous and terrible. Sanji knew needed to get to the bottom of it and get his crew out before something truly dreadful happened.

He needed to find Zoro, and he needed to find him _now_.

* * * *

He found the swordsman napping. He was always freaking napping. In the midst of a potentially perilous event, when all of their crew members were acting as if under some spell, Sanji found Zoro in almost the exact same position he would have found him on a normal day on the deck of the _Sunny_. Go figure.

One sandal-clad foot met the swordsman’s side, and Zoro went flying.

“Gah!” Zoro pulled himself out of a bush covered in yellow blackberries, and shot a look at the cook. “What the hell!”

“Shut up and listen to me!” Sanji growled quietly. “There’s a problem and you have to help me.”

Zoro pulled himself up to a standing position and straightened his haramaki.

“What is it, cook?” he rumbled.

“I have no idea,” Sanji murmured, sliding a cigarette out of his pack and lighting up. “The girls are acting weird, Luffy’s probably under some kind of hypnosis, I can’t find Brook anywhere, and that damn smell is getting on my nerves so bad I’m ready to kill someone.” He took a drag and blew out slowly.

“Something is going down in this city and we’ve gotta figure out what it is before we get pulled into some weird vortex or Luffy gets turned into a cow or some shit.”

When he turned to look at Zoro, he startled at finding the swordsman uninterested. The green-haired man was scratching at his neck and stifling a yawn.

“Are you sure, ero-cook?”

Sanji was stunned. He was sure the swordsman would have been concerned at the mention of Luffy acting on the fritz. Zoro had felt that same air of foreboding that Sanji had when the crew had first docked. Of all the people on the ship, Sanji thought that Zoro would be the one he could turn to. The swordsman always had his back in times of trouble. Now he was as indifferent as the rest of them.

“Shit…” Sanji faltered. He didn’t like the idea of busting heads and taking back his crew all by himself. 

“Not you too, Marimo.”

This time, Zoro did yawn. He stretched his arms over his head and popped the joints in his neck. “Whatever. I’m gonna go back to sleep. I have the games to prepare for later today. You should play too, it’ll loosen up the stick in your ass.”

Sanji stood there frozen and speechless, and watched Zoro lay back down on the grass. This whole thing was like a nightmare.

“Fine,” Sanji said finally. “You take a nap and play your games. I’m gonna go find Brook and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

As he turned as stalked away, Zoro called after him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sanji whirled back around. “I’m talking about my crew acting like a bunch of freaking idiots, that’s what! I’m talking about figuring out why all of you have decided that staying here and the stuff that goes on here is more important than the life that we had out there!” Sanji gestured angrily to the walls of the mountain, taking a moment to think about how much he missed the sky.

“No, no, no,” the swordsman muttered. “I don’t care about whatever it is you think is happening wherever.” 

Zoro sat back up then and leveled Sanji with a strange gaze.

“I was just wondering who the hell Brook was.” 

TBC


	7. Spell

Zoro’s back hit the bed, and the mattress being as soft as it was, bounced him off and onto the floor. “Ouch,” he whined. It didn’t really hurt, he wasn’t even sure why he said it. It just felt like the thing you were supposed to say.

When he looked up, Sanji was giving him that awful look again. Zoro had been pretty sure he had seen all of the cook’s emotions, especially since Sanji seemed to have no filter, but this one was new. He had never seen Sanji scared—truly scared—before. It was weird.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sanji growled. “I mean, really? I just threw you on the bed and you fall face-first onto the ground and all I get is an ‘ouch’?”

Zoro sat up and shrugged, trying to hide a smirk. This new freaked out Sanji was even cuter than angry Sanji. Of course, there really wasn’t a time when Sanji wasn’t cute. He was definitely cute all the time. Handsome even. Why had that been so hard to admit before? Sanji was handsome. Handsome, handsome, handsome, han—

WHAM! Sanji’s foot collided with Zoro’s side and he was flying across the room. He slammed into the wall, grunting as pain shot through his ribs. When he turned around, slumped against the rock wall, he took in Sanji’s face, red with frustration and fury. The cook’s body stood tense and ready, adrenaline thumping in anticipation of the fight.

Okay, Zoro had been wrong earlier. Sanji was _hot_.

Zoro was trying to pick himself up, dust off, and get ready for the next blow—because that’s what they did, right? Him and Sanji? They fought together? Sparred together? But Sanji surprised him by turning away and sitting on the bed. He pulled out his pack and lit a cigarette.

“Okay… okay, calm down,” Sanji was muttering to himself. “Something must have happened while you were asleep. They switched them all out for robots or did some kind of mind control thing… Turned them into zombies…” He took a drag from the cigarette, pausing to think. “No… that doesn’t make any sense. You were out cold, you’d be the first one they would’ve caught.”

Zoro, thinking that this conversation Sanji was having with himself was very interesting, climbed up onto the bed and stretched out on his stomach next to the cook to listen.

“Maybe it has something to do with that smell? No… ‘cause that would affect me too. The food? That would make sense, since I haven’t eaten… No, I just ate some this morning…”

Zoro couldn’t really follow what Sanji was talking about, but he listened, liking the timber of the cook’s voice. He had no idea what could be bothering the other man so much, there was nothing on the island that could hurt them. Maybe Sanji was just having some kind of cabin fever? Maybe he missed the ocean? Sanji did like the ocean a lot.

“Hey, Sanji,” Zoro asked, trying to get the cook’s mind off whatever. “Why don’t we go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Sanji looked at him then, a frown on his face. “Are you serious? You’re hungry right now?”

“Yeah, a little.” Okay, maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea. Zoro had thought bringing up food would kick Sanji into cook mode, but it seemed to only make him more upset. 

Sanji shook his head and gestured toward their bags, stacked neatly against the far wall. “The cooler we brought with us is underneath my duffle. There should be something in there. I don’t wanna leave this room until I figure out what we’re going to do.” 

Zoro sighed. Well, that plan backfired. 

He glanced at the cooler. For as good as the Polluge’s food was, Sanji’s was better, and the swordsman found himself salivating at the thought of eating something made by Sanji after so many days. He rolled off the bed and tossed the large, blue duffle aside. When he opened the cooler, he found a sandwich, and a large container of fruit. 

“This stuff okay to eat?” Zoro asked. “It’s been sitting here for a few days.”

Sanji nodded, pulling out another cigarette. “The cooler’s Franky’s design. Keeps food crisp and cold for up to a week. It’s like a mini-fridge.”

Zoro reached for the sandwich and, sure enough, it was like he was grabbing it out of the refrigerator back on the _Sunny_. 

“Neat,” he murmured. He grabbed the container of fruit and sat back down on the bed. Taking a bite of the sandwich, he turned to Sanji and asked with his mouth full, “So, are we gonna play the games today, or not?”

Sanji snarled around his cigarette. “No, moron! You’re gonna stay with me until we get Brook back, figure out what’s going on, and then get everybody back to the C.R.A.B., and out of this fucking place!”

Zoro frowned around a bite. Leave the island? “But… why do you wanna leave?”

Sanji didn’t answer him. He just sighed and stood, rubbing at his forehead.

Zoro shoved the last of the sandwich into his mouth and opened the fruit container. He was about to reach for an apple, when something round and green caught his eye. A heavy feeling started in the pit of his stomach, and then moved out to each of his limbs. His head suddenly felt fuzzy and his mouth went dry.

“Sanji…” he said softly.

“Hm,” Sanji answered, not paying attention, pacing the length of the room. 

Zoro tried to swallow. “Why… why do you have these?”

Sanji turned to look at him then, confusion painted on his face. “Have what?”

Zoro pointed, and Sanji’s confusion deepened. He moved back to the bed and leaned over the swordsman’s tense frame. “Roronoa fruit? What do you mean? I just packed them with the rest of the fruit. Why wouldn’t I have them?”

Something tugged at the back of Zoro’s mind. Something he felt he had forgotten.

“I… uh…” he murmured. “We’re not supposed to eat these.”

“Not supposed…” Sanji trailed off and his eyes opened wide. “Who says?”

Zoro blinked, his head was beginning to hurt. “I… don’t know… We’re just not supposed to.”

Sanji was suddenly beside him. The cook took him by the shoulders and squeezed hard. “Zoro? Zoro, listen to me. Why can’t you eat the Roronoa fruit? Who told you that?”

Zoro’s throat was so dry. He tried to swallow, but he couldn’t make his tongue cooperate. “I was trying to tell you something… but you were asleep. Why the hell did you sleep so long?”

“Zoro, what are you talking about?”

Zoro felt there was something at the back of his mind, pounding on the door trying to get in. That something needed remembering, and fast, or Sanji wasn’t ever going to know, and all those hours of sitting beside his bed would be for nothing! All those hours of making sure he was never alone, never alone with the doctor, always sneaking, always giving him water when no one was looking—

Zoro’s eyes snapped open. Sanji was there, holding his arms, staring at him with such fear in his eyes, Zoro almost wanted to scream with frustration. He needed to tell him… tell him… tell him what?

“I’m gonna be sick.”

Sanji blinked. “Uh… what?”

Zoro didn’t answer. Instead, he handed the container to Sanji and stood. He moved into the bathroom, and heaved up the entire contents of his stomach. Unfortunately, Sanji’s delicious sandwich went to waste, but everything had to go. Everything.

The crew’s lives depended on it.

* * * *

Sanji had only been truly scared once, maybe twice, in his life. The first time had been on a small island deep in the middle of the ocean, with an old man, and a bag of treasure. The second… well, the second time was waking up on Thriller Bark, and seeing Zoro surrounded in a lake of blood. But that time… didn’t count.

So now, this could be considered the second time in Sanji’s life that he had been truly, truly scared. Brook was missing, his crew was a bunch of zombie robots, and now Zoro—unshakeable, unbreakable Zoro, had turned ashen and thrown up what sounded like everything he had ever eaten in his life.

When the swordsman emerged from the bathroom, Sanji just stood with his hands balled into fists at his sides. Zoro looked at him, his eyes bleary, and his skin glistening with sweat from strain. 

“Ah…” Sanji murmured, “Are you okay?”

Zoro shrugged. “My head hurts, and I feel a little dizzy. I still feel kind of floaty, which is bad, but I’m also pretty embarrassed that I just threw up in front of you. That’s a good sign.”

Sanji blinked. Had Zoro really just said all that to him?

“It’s uh…” the cook stammered, “It’s… don’t worry about it.”

Zoro motioned to the fruit container. “Can you hand me that please?”

 _Please?_ “Are you kidding?” Instead of handing the swordsman the fruit, he moved to stand in between his crewmate and the food. “You just hurled and you want more to eat? That’s probably not such a good idea.”

Zoro shook his head. “I threw up on purpose. Just give me the fruit.”

Sanji reluctantly handed Zoro the container and watched as the swordsman wolfed down every Roronoa in there.

“Um… you can make yourself throw up?”

Zoro nodded. “I’ve trained my body to withstand tremendous amounts of pain, lift over five-hundred times my own weight, and drop into a meditative state within fifteen seconds. You think I can’t make myself throw up?” 

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Zoro sat on the bed, shoveling the rest of the container’s contents. Sanji sat down beside him, watching, waiting as this new and strange Zoro ate. He had such a strange expression, like he was lost and wary but content with it all at the same time. It was eerie and uncomfortable, but it was also Zoro. Sanji knew if he was patient, Zoro would explain what was going on. Or try to at least.

Finally, the swordsman stopped shoving fruit in his mouth long enough to speak.

“I don’t remember.”

Sanji scooted closer. “Don’t remember what?”

Zoro shook his head. “I don’t know. The last clear thing in my head is being freaked out that you might never wake up again.”

Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why would I never wake up again? I was just messed up from the surgery.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Zoro said softly, and the plea in his voice made Sanji freeze.

“Everybody was acting so weird, and you were just out. I didn’t know if they had poisoned you, or what.” 

Sanji’s heart started to pound. “You… thought I’d been poisoned?”

Zoro ran a hand over his face and back through his hair. “I don’t know.”

Sanji sat back, letting everything sink in. “So…” he said quietly, voicing his thoughts aloud. “Whatever happened to the rest of the crew, happened fast. They were all under the spell within—”

“—I don’t think it’s a spell, Sanji. I’m pretty sure it’s the food.”

“Whatever, food, spell, hypnosis, zombie robots, I don’t care. Whatever happened, it happened within the first day. But then I passed out, and then this Thing didn’t start to affect you until a few days later.”

Zoro sighed. “I noticed it after Chopper came to look at you. He checked you out and then left to go build some school or something. I knew something was up because he didn’t really care. The real Chopper would have been fussing and crying and doing everything he could for you.”

Sanji nodded.

“And then Nami was nice to me,” Zoro continued. “She told me not to worry about the debt, and was doing this weird wiggle thing, kind of shaking her ass at me. It was almost like she was… uh…”

“Flirting, I know,” Sanji rubbed at his eyes. “Not my fondest memory.”

“She did it to you too?” Zoro asked. “Isn’t that like your ultimate dream or something?”

Sanji shook his head. “It just creeped me out. I like Nami a lot better when she’s just regular Nami, bossing everybody around and smacking Luffy upside the head.”

When Sanji turned back to Zoro, the swordsman was giving him the most peculiar look he had ever seen. 

“Really?” Zoro asked. “Am I really understanding you when you say you didn’t like Nami flirting with you?”

Sanji made a face. “Yeah, it was freaky. Don’t ever tell her I said that.”

To his surprise, Zoro smiled. His face actually lit up. He looked so happy for a moment that Sanji in fact forgot what they were talking about.

“You know, you’re still kind of freaky too, Zoro.”

Again, to Sanji’s shock, Zoro surprised him. The swordsman chuckled softly and shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help myself. I’m just real happy right now.”

Sanji frowned. “Why?”

Zoro shrugged again. “I like hearing something negative about Nami coming from you. I hate the way she treats you. You give her everything she wants and she walks all over you, treats you like crap. It’s not fair. I would never do that to you. If you started treating me like you treat Nami, I’d—”

Suddenly, Zoro’s eyes opened wide and he shot to his feet. He looked frantically around the room before he threw his hands on his head.

“Holy shit! Where are my katana!”

“Uh…” Sanji tried to follow but he felt like his brain had just fallen out of his head. “Where… where did you have them last?”

“I don’t remember! Here maybe!?” Zoro was livid. “What the fuck! How could this happen!? How could I just forget about her and leave her somewhere!!?”

Sanji stood, trying to calm the swordsman before the village was destroyed. “Wait, wait, Zoro. The Polluge have weapons, so they must have an armory. Maybe they put your swords there?”

Zoro ground his teeth. “Maybe. Let’s go.”

Sanji followed Zoro out of their room and down the long corridor. He tried to focus on what was happening around him, to try and worry about where Zoro’s swords might be, but his head was going in so many different directions that he almost couldn’t see where he was going. 

_Zoro doesn’t like how Nami treats me? He thinks she walks all over me? He actually thinks about this kind of stuff?_

They rounded a corner and almost ran smack into a palace guard. Zoro took the young man by his collar, and snarled into his face. 

“Where is she? _Where are my katana?_ ”

Sanji had just enough awareness to step in and extricate Zoro from the trembling guard. He apologized and asked if the guard knew of Zoro’s swords and if they had maybe been taken to the armory. The guard nodded, and quickly motioned for the two men to follow him.

As they walked, Sanji thought more about what Zoro had said to him. If the swordsman had put that much thought into the relationship between himself and Nami… what did that mean? Zoro said he _hated_ the way Nami treated him. Zoro? Hated that Nami was coy and a tease around Sanji? Really?

And what the hell had he been about to say before his outburst? What if Sanji started treating Zoro like he did Nami? What would the swordsman do then?

A thought struck the cook just as they were descending a flight of stairs, and it was so profound, so unexpected, that Sanji tripped and almost fell. 

Was Zoro jealous of Nami? Was that why?

Sanji’s heart started to pound again. It was all so confusing. What the hell was Zoro thinking!? What was _he_ thinking, thinking that Zoro was jealous!? Did he want Zoro to be jealous? Holy shit, did he _want Zoro to be jealous of Nami!!?_.

Overwhelmed, Sanji pushed all thoughts but the matter at hand out of his head. They would find Zoro’s swords, find Brook, save the crew, and then get the hell out of this strange and confusing place.

TBC


	8. Closer to What?

The Polluge guard quickly led Sanji and a fuming Zoro through the palace. He glanced over his shoulder once or twice with a look that was a combination of fear and confusion, but thankfully he said nothing. The three men made their way down a long corridor and down a stone staircase. When they reached the bottom, their guide saluted another guard standing in front of a double iron door.

“Our guests want to see the armory,” the first guard said.

The armory guard took one quick look at Zoro and adopted that look of confusion and fear. “W-why?”

“Because my katana might be in there, you son of a b—”

Sanji stepped in before the armory guard had some kind of mental collapse. He put a hand on Zoro’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.

“Just a quick peek gentlemen?” Sanji asked smoothly. “My friend here has lost something very special to him. We won’t be five minutes.” 

The guard looked from Sanji to Zoro, and then back to Sanji again before he pulled out a large, iron key and slid it into the lock. The doors had barely swung open when Zoro pushed past and disappeared between the rows of swords and bows and other assorted weaponry. 

Sanji smiled, not sure what he was supposed to do now. Twiddle his thumbs? 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Conner,” the armory guard said.

“Aiden…” the first guard answered when Sanji turned to him.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Sanji said softly. “Zoro might look like it, but once he gets his swords back, he’ll be fine.”

Aiden shook his head. “We’re going to get into trouble. No visitors are allowed to walk the city with weapons.”

“At least not until they’re integrated,” Conner added.

“Integrated?” Sanji choked.

“And even then,” Aiden continued as if Sanji has said nothing, “you don’t really get to carry a weapon unless you are selected to become one of the defense or guard.”

“Okay wait, wait,” Sanji put up his hands. This was getting freakier by the second. “Let’s go back to integration. What the hell does that mean?”

Aiden and Conner both gave Sanji a strange look, as if he was saying something that made no sense at all. 

“It’s when you join us,” Aiden said.

“Yes,” Conner continued, “when you become one of us officially.”

Sanji’s eyebrows shot up. “Hu, uh… um,” he cleared his throat. “Become… one of you?”

Aiden and Conner both nodded. “Everyone who comes here does.”

Sanji swallowed. “Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Unless it doesn’t take,” Aiden added. “Then they get sent to isolation.”

It wasn’t very often that Sanji was struck speechless. Frozen in front of those guards, the cook had no idea how to respond and probably would have ended up standing there in a daze for quite some time if Zoro had not appeared at the armory door at that moment. Sanji noted with a measure of relief that he was carrying his three swords. “Found them.” He also held up a brown satchel and thrust it in Conner’s face. “I’m taking this too.”

The swordsman then pushed passed them all, his face set in a hard scowl. He climbed the stairs and was out of sight in seconds. Sanji caught himself staring after Zoro, the swordsman’s silhouette still outlined in the light from the corridor above. 

“Um…” Conner said at his side, “is that everything?”

Sanji turned to him, and blinked. Everything was so messed up. There were a million and one questions dancing around in Sanji’s head, but he wasn’t ready to let Zoro too far out of his sight just yet.

“Yeah,” the cook forced a smile, “that’s all we needed. Thanks.”

When Sanji ascended the stairs, he found himself walking into a circular courtyard. The space was carved stairs that led down to a luscious garden. The garden surrounded a fountain depicting three young maidens pouring water from pitchers. The courtyard was outlined by large stone pillars covered in vines which were dotted with unidentifiable blossoms. The scene was striking, and on any normal day Sanji would have taken a few moments to bathe in its quiet beauty. However, the cook currently felt as if he was choking on something sinister, so he pulled his pack from his pocket and slipped a cigarette between his lips. 

Zoro sat close, a few steps down from the top of the courtyard stairs. He was blanketed by the soft shadows of the castle pillars and the satchel was open by his side. _Wado_ was resting on his thighs as he ran a cloth over her hilt at the base of the blade. 

Sanji approached slowly, lighting up and taking a deep, comforting drag. He lowered himself to sit on the top step and watched Zoro methodically clean his most prized possession. 

“Do you feel better?” Sanji asked.

Zoro was silent for a minute before he answered. “Yes and no.”

Sanji didn’t ask him to elaborate, he knew if Zoro wanted to explain, he would on his own time. The swordsman slowly ran the cloth over the blade and back, checking down the line of the metal with his eye. He spent several long minutes doing this before he spoke again.

“She’s with me again,” Zoro said softly, “so that’s a comfort, I guess… but…”

Sanji waited, lighting another cigarette.

Finally, Zoro sighed. “I just can’t believe I forgot her…”

There was nothing Sanji could say. There was no reassurance at all in this. Zoro’s battle was an inner one, and he would have to forgive himself for losing sight of his goal and his dream on his own. 

Sanji sat quietly as Zoro cleaned and inspected each sword methodically. When he finished with the third, that strangely colored one he had picked up on Thriller Bark, he stood to take a few test swings. 

Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and rested his elbows on his knees. “They’re all right?” he asked carefully.

Zoro nodded. “No permanent damage, looks like they weren’t even taken out of their saya. Just some sand around the hilts and pressed into the collars.”

“Ah,” Sanji replied, feeling a little lame. “Well, that’s good… in retrospect, I guess.”

Zoro nodded and carefully slid his three swords into place at his side. “What were you talking about with the guards? You looked whiter than a ghost.”

Sanji sucked in a drag and descended the steps. He spoke quietly at Zoro’s side.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

* * * *

They passed guards and servants alike as the two Strawhats made their way outside and down towards the water. With the artificial lighting, and the sheer size of the underground cavern, it was very easy to forget that you were in fact inside a mountain. There was a beach—but no tide of course, it was more like the beach of a lake—and the body of water was quite large. Land brimming with fresh produce and orchards blossoming with all colors of fruits stretched from the wall of the city out as far as one would think they could see. Palm trees dotted the beach line at the berm, flowers bloomed everywhere. It was warm and inviting, a true paradise at first glance. There was even protection from attacks, no worries of sudden storms blowing in…

Zoro stopped and rested a hand on _Wado’s_ hilt. He glanced back at the castle and the city that seemed to climb the mountain side.

“Do you think it was them that made this place? The Polluge, I mean?”

Sanji shrugged. “No idea. This place is way freaky but they don’t seem to be psychos or zombies or anything.”

“They don’t _seem_ to be anyway.”

“Right,” Sanji agreed, “but they’re all kind of laid back and nice too. I don’t wanna just assume they’re all out to kill us, or eat our brains or something.”

“I only assume that because that’s usually what people _are_ out for,” Zoro muttered.

Sanji sighed. “It’s true…”

The cook ran a hand over his face before his slid both in his pockets. Zoro turned away from the city and folded his arms over his chest. 

“Okay, so what’s going on?”

Sanji took a quick look to make sure there was no one near, and pulled out his pack again. He lit up and spoke softly behind his hands.

“We have got to find Brook.”

“I know.”

“Oh? You know who I’m talking about now?”

“Shut up.”

Sanji snickered and pulled in a long drag. “I’m pretty sure that the food is what’s causing everyone to act so funny. Or, at least it’s a factor. Whether or not the Polluge are doing it on purpose or not, I don’t know, but my theory is that our crew went nuts from eating the food, and it would make sense that Brook didn’t.”

Zoro gave him a look. “Eh?”

Sanji shrugged. “Brook has no body, he doesn’t have a metabolism… or a stomach for that matter.”

“Yo ho ho,” Zoro snorted.

Sanji punched his shoulder while hiding a grin. “Serious business.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Sanji continued, “I’m guessing Brook wasn’t affected by the food or whatever, and so the ‘integration didn’t take’.”

“Okay, you lost me,” Zoro grumbled.

Sanji told Zoro about what the guards had said while the swordsman had been searching for his swords. Zoro listened with his eyes shut and his jaw clenching and unclenching until Sanji finished. He stood for a moment after the cook finished, taking it all in.

“So…” the swordsman said softy, “you think they have Brook locked away somewhere?”

“They have an arms room, why not a dungeon?”

Zoro sighed and scratched at his chin, a look of frustration coming over his face. “Some stuff still doesn’t make sense.”

“A lot of stuff still doesn’t make sense,” Sanji snorted.

“Yeah, but the thing that’s messing me up the most is, why did whatever effected the rest of the crew so fast take so long to affect me?”

Sanji frowned. “What? What do you mean?”

Zoro folded his arms over his chest. He frowned as he spoke. “I can remember bits and pieces now. That first night we were here, when we had that feast, I felt all weird like I was drunk.”

Sanji nodded. “I remember that.”

“But in the morning, I felt normal again. Everything would have been fine, I would have pulled Luffy away, gotten everybody back to the ship and out of here, but… you were… I thought you were…”

Sanji’s eyes opened wide. “What… You thought I was dead? Come on Zoro, even you’re not stupid enough to think someone sleeping is dead.”

“Shut up.” Zoro’s voice was quiet. He stared at the ground with haunted eyes and Sanji’s words caught in his throat. 

“You have no idea what it was like.” The swordsman tightened his arms across his chest. “You were this creepy grey color, and you were really cold and stiff. Even Chopper thought you had died until he got a real good look at you.”

Sanji was shocked. “I… I guess… wow…”

Zoro took a breath and cracked his neck from side to side. “I was so pissed. That’s when the crew started to act funny, and the only person that had felt anything was wrong besides me was in a freaking coma.”

Embarrassed and horrified at Zoro’s account, Sanji looked away and lit another cigarette. He was constantly worrying about looking weak in front of the swordsman, and for days he had laid in bed practically dead from a simple surgery. Then on top of everything, fucking Zoro had watched over him for most of it. Great.

“Something happened on that second day we were here.” Zoro continued. “Something… I don’t know I can’t remember, but I feel it. I remember sitting by your bed, waiting for you to wake up. I didn’t know it was the food that was making everybody crazy, so after I while I ate. Obviously, it eventually fucked me up too.”

Zoro was talking a lot again. Did that mean he was still under the food spell? Just a little? Or was Zoro genuinely opening up to him? It was hard to tell.

“It’s interesting…” Sanji exhaled.

Zoro looked at him finally. “What?” 

Sanji took another drag. “Well whatever this is affected you less than the rest of the crew. It eventually did, but you lasted longer. I wonder why. And what about me? I ate the food at the feast too, and again when I got up, but all it seemed to do to me was relax me a bit and make that horrible smell go away.”

“You smell it now?”

“No,” Sanji shook his head. 

Zoro made a noise and ran his hands through his hair. “This is so frustrating. I just wanna pummel someone.”

“Yeah I know,” Sanji muttered. “Problem is nothing’s consistent. I can understand Brook, but why would I not be affected? What do Brook and I have in common that the rest of you don’t? And then why did it affect you less than the rest of the crew, but not as much as me and Brook?”

Zoro glared. “Don’t ask me, this isn’t the way I think.”

Sanji scoffed. “I’m surprised you think at all.”

Zoro made a face, but then turned back to the city. “So, I guess priority number one is finding Brook then?”

Sanji nodded. “Yeah, maybe the three of us together can apprehend our captain.” Suddenly, another thought struck Sanji.

“Hey, Zoro? Why did you get all freaked out when you saw the Roronoa fruit? That set you off more than anything else so far.”

Zoro looked at him, his eyes seeming to search for something far away. He blinked a few times, his jaw clenching again.

“I don’t know…” he said softly. “I can’t remember. But whenever that stupid fruit comes up I get a weird feeling in my stomach.”

“Weird like how?” Sanji asked.

“Weird like bad.”

Sanji’s eyes went wide. “You think maybe the fruit has something to do with what happened? I mean, you saw it and threw up. There’s gotta be something there.”

Zoro’s face became clouded with frustration once again. “I… I don’t know…”

Sanji wanted to know, he _desperately_ wanted to know, but Zoro looked pained. The swordsman seemed to be getting more and more frustrated by the second, so Sanji backed off and suggested they start finding their lost crew member. 

“Don’t worry,” the cook said, “you’ll think of it. Right when we’re in the middle of kicking ass and I don’t care anymore, it’ll come to you.”

Zoro’s lips twitched and he nodded. “Sure.” 

He followed the cook back up the beach, kicking small stones in his path. When the two of them made it back up and over the berm however, Zoro stopped.

“Hey, Sanji?”

“Yeah?” Sanji turned around to face the swordsman.

Zoro grinned at him. “Wouldn’t it have sucked if we had gotten into this mess a couple months ago? Back before Thriller Bark? I mean, I would have been trapped in this place with a bunch of dead head Polluge and all my crewmates would be crazy except for the one that hated me.”

Sanji stilled. He looked down at Zoro, a small lump forming in the back of his throat. Zoro had said with a crewmate that hated _him_ , not the one _he_ had hated. What did that mean exactly? Had Zoro really thought that Sanji had _hated_ him? Not that Sanji had given him any reason to think otherwise, but… the realization hurt a little.

“I…” Sanji stammered, “I never hated you, Zoro…”

Zoro snorted. “It’s okay, you’re not gonna hurt my feelings or anything. I didn’t really like you either.” The swordsman took a few steps, bringing him to Sanji’s side. “But, I’m glad it’s not like that anymore. I’m glad that you… well…” Zoro trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

Sanji was intrigued. “Glad that I’m what?”

Zoro’s skin darkened across his nose, and Sanji almost choked on nothing. Zoro was blushing! 

Zoro’s stance was still tall and strong, but the green-haired man’s eyes were darting around frantically as if searching for something to look at—besides Sanji of course. 

“I’m just glad… we’re friends now… that’s all.”

Sanji felt a thump in his chest. He felt his mouth go dry and he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Something was happening, something unexplainable. Something that had nothing to do with the air or the food or the city of Polluge. Something was happening between the two Strawhat pirates, and Sanji was starting to feel it. Zoro obviously already felt it, and whatever it was it was both powerful and terrifying at the same time.

Sanji took a breath.

“…I’m glad we’re friends now too...”

Zoro looked up at him, his eyes giving away how relieved Sanji’s words had made him. Sanji felt a pull at that moment, a desperate tug from the swordsman that was almost tangible. The cook almost gave into it and moved closer, but how stupid would that be? Closer to what? He was probably imagining all of this anyway. His over-romantic brain was making this simple thing into something it wasn’t. 

Sanji took a breath, steeled himself, and motioned with his head towards the city.

“Let’s go.”

* * * *

They didn’t get far. Zoro had no idea where the dungeons could be, and Sanji hadn’t been awake long enough to know his way around the castle. The two pirates got turned around several times before Sanji growled in frustration.

“Let’s just backtrack to that garden with the fountain! I might be able to manage from the armory!”

Zoro didn’t have any idea where the garden was either, but the cook seemed to know where they were headed, so he followed. His head was in a jumble. It was distracting and frustrating and even more infuriating because he really couldn’t do anything about it. If they had been back on the ship, Zoro knew he could have just trained this muddle out of himself. He could have knocked back a few thousand reps with the large weights and been ready to go, but now they had no time for it. Brook was somewhere in the castle and he needed their help now. Zoro just hoped that whatever this was didn’t affect his ability to fight.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, there was this thing with Sanji! Whenever he was around, the swordsman felt funny. Zoro’s senses were already in a jumble and when that stupid cook looked at him with those piercing blue eyes, Zoro’s head got even more fuzzy. What the hell did that mean? Was it from the drugs? Was it because of the food? Should he tell Sanji in case it was something else to look out for?

No. Who was he kidding? Zoro knew that this Sanji thing had been going on for a while now, like since Thriller Bark. Pretty much since the damn cook stepped in between himself and that Kuma guy. Sanji had been so cool, talking about dreams and all that other crap. Why had the damn cook done that? 

And then when everything was over and Zoro was in so much pain he could barely stand, who was there? Who was the first one at his side?

Sanji.

Speaking of, Zoro was so deep into his broodings that he didn’t notice Sanji had stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. Zoro’s front collided with Sanji’s back, and Zoro would have opened up a string of curses repulsive enough to make the blond bastard blush, but his eyes caught what had stopped the cook frozen.

Nami. The Strawhat navigator stood in the stone hall, scantily dressed in some kind of red bikini wrap thing, her arms around some muscled Polluge, and her head tilted back to accommodate the guy’s lips on her neck. It was surreal, and it was uncomfortable. Of all the things Zoro had ever wanted to see Nami do—apologize to him, mud wrestle with Robin, any kind of work whatsoever—getting sensual with some stranger was definitely not on the list. It was like walking in on his sister in the shower. Well, that’s what the swordsman thought would have been the equivalent. Zoro didn’t actually have a sister to compare it with, so…

Nami made a small noise at the back of her throat and opened her eyes. She saw them both and smiled. 

“Oh, hey Sanji, Zoro. Where are you headed?” The Polluge guy didn’t even pause. He just kept kissing down the red head’s neck, running his big hands all over her exposed skin.

Zoro took a moment to glance at Sanji, ready to jump in and hold the cook back, but he was surprised at what he saw. Sanji’s stance was calm, relaxed even. There was nothing in his posture that would suggest murderous intent. Knowing Sanji, and knowing how he felt about Nami, the show of self-control was a little unbelievable. 

“We’re uh…” Zoro muttered when Sanji didn’t answer. “We’re headed to the room. Stupid cook ran out of cigarettes.” Oh, it was so lame, but damnit he couldn’t make up brilliant stories on the spot like Sanji could!

“Oh,” Nami smile widened and she pulled her arms from the muscle-head’s shoulders. “Well, Lor and I were just headed to the pool. Wanna join us after restocking, Sanji?”

The cook didn’t say anything. He just slipped his hands into his pockets and shook his head.

“Oh, come on.” Nami pushed away from Lor and moved towards them. She moved slowly, her hips swaying as she walked. “It’ll be fun. I can call a few of the servant girls for you, order some wine for Zoro. It’ll be fun.” 

Zoro swallowed. His brain hurt. “We kind of already have plans.”

Nami snickered. “There’s something Sanji wants to do more than party with me and a bunch of maids in bathing suits? I doubt it.” The navigator stepped into Sanji’s space and ran her fingers over his blond hair. “Hasn’t that been your fantasy since you joined Luffy’s crew?”

Zoro felt a wave of something unpleasant well up from his gut. The feeling propelled him to step forward and separate Sanji from Nami’s touch. He growled under his breath, shooting Nami a glare that could kill or turn to stone. He wasn’t sure why he moved, it just felt right, like there was nothing else he could have done. He stepped in between Sanji and Nami as if protecting the blond from some unspeakable fate.

The red head pouted but didn’t resist. “You’re such a spoil sport, Zoro.” She stepped back and into Lor’s waiting arms. 

“We’ll stop by later,” Zoro said, and really, he hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so menacing. Really. “Just stay by the pool and we’ll meet you. Try and get some of the others to come too. I bet Franky’d be all for it.”

Nami sighed dramatically. “All right, just don’t keep us waiting.” 

“Whatever.” Zoro moved, reaching his hand out to take Sanji’s arm, but the cook moved on his own. He pushed past Zoro and around Nami without saying anything. The swordsman gave Nami one last harrowing look and followed as Sanji turned to head down a flight of stairs. 

After a few more twists and turns, Zoro found himself in a long and familiar looking corridor. Sanji had led them back to the garden with its fountain of girls and pitchers. They stood for a moment checking the area before the cook left Zoro at the steps and moved onto the stone walkway between the carefully planted flowers. 

Zoro rubbed at his neck. What was he supposed to do? Should he talk to Sanji? They might not have a lot of time, they needed to find Brook and get the crew out of this place. 

The swordsman descended the steps and followed Sanji into the garden. He made his way through the clusters of funny looking purple blossoms and sprouting red puffs. The smell of the flowers was a little overwhelming, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Zoro found the cook leaning underneath a tree, smoking. The blond’s eyes were downcast and far away.

“Oi, cook,” Zoro said, “We don’t have time for a smoke break. We need to find Brook fast.”

Sanji took a drag and leaned against the tree trunk. “I just need a minute.” 

Zoro clenched his fists in helpless anger. If only the idiot wasn’t such an idiot... 

“It’s just the drugs, Sanji. She’ll be back to normal once we get her back to the ship.”

“Whatever.” Sanji puffed on his cigarette and stared at something that probably wasn’t there. 

Zoro cleared his throat. Regular, crazy, kicking at his face upset Sanji he could handle, but quiet, staring off into space upset Sanji was not something Zoro knew how to deal with. The swordsman took another couple steps closer, but Sanji held up a hand to stop him.

“It’s fine.”

Zoro sighed. That stupid annoyed feeling he’d been getting lately started to burn in his chest. “It’s not like that was really her, I mean this stuff messes with your head so—”

“—God damnit, I said it’s fine, Zoro!” Sanji cut in. “Will you just drop it?”

Zoro hated the current look in Sanji’s eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know that at that moment Sanji was hiding a substantial amount of grief. Seeing Nami like that had probably shocked the stupid cook, and now he was doing his best to play it off like it was nothing. Zoro swallowed and tried to calm himself as his blood started to boil. What was so fucking great about Nami anyway? When had she ever treated Sanji like anything but a slave? Did she even notice how much Sanji cared for her? Had she ever stopped to think about how many times Sanji saved her life? Did she care at all? When was the cook going to realize she was a super bitch and get over her!?

Zoro sighed and put his hands on his hips. There was no point in trying to talk sense into the blond bastard. He was over the moon for the evil red head and all Zoro could do was sit back and watch the train wreck.

He stepped past the cook, grabbed him by the shoulders, and turned his thin body around. With a not so gentle shove, the swordsman pushed Sanji toward the steps.

“No, I’m not going to drop it,” he growled, “but I will put it on hold for now.”

Sanji scoffed as he was pushed up the steps. “Oh gee, thanks.”

“Shut up,” Zoro sighed. “We have a skeleton to save.”

* * * *

Deep below the castle, in a small, dark cell carved from stone, chains rattled as a bone-thin arm dragged across the sand-covered floor. Black wool rustled softly as a suit jacket scraped against rib bones. A long, lanky figure awoke slowly and pulled itself into a seated position.

A rat squeaked as it ran across the floor. A torch flickered from somewhere down the corridor, but did not give off enough light for the prisoner to see much of anything. There was a cough from far away as skeletal fingers straightened flamboyant shirt ruffles.

“L…Luffy?” a musical voice murmured. “Luffy? Hello? Anybody?”

Those same skeletal fingers felt around in the darkness for the wall, and when they found it, they led the body into the dim light of the faraway torch.

Brook stood straight and dusted himself off. He was not afraid, just mildly concerned that the smell wouldn’t come out of his clothes. He knew his new friends were still there, that they wouldn’t leave without him, but how were they going to be able to find him? He felt like he was very far underneath the ground.

The musician felt a little light headed, but he supposed that was normal after drinking three bottles of wine. How long had he been down here? Just a few hours? All night? He had no sense of what time it was, therefore he couldn’t pin point how long he had been asleep.

His head hurt and his body (or what was left of it) felt awful, sluggish. He craved a cold glass of milk.

Suddenly, there was a noise in the corner. A shift of feet? A rustle of clothing? Brook whirled on the sound, empty eye sockets searching the darkness for something. Anything.

“Hey…” Brook half growled, half whispered. “Who’s there?”

A figure pulled itself away from the wall and came towards him slowly. “You…” a cracking, aging voice whispered, “Who are you?”

Annoyed already from waking in the damp and dark, and being stuck below a ceiling that was barely high enough to stand under, Brook bit back a growl and forced a chuckle instead. Wouldn’t do to threaten a potentially psychotic cellmate now would it? 

“I believe, good sir,” oh, he hoped it was in fact a sir, “that I asked first.”

As the figure stepped closer, the light from that faraway torch revealed white hair, a long, grey beard, and dry cracked skin. Oh good. He was a man.

Even in these most horrible conditions, the prisoner stood straight and proud. If Brook didn’t know any better, he would have said this person was of some importance. There was an air about him, something that set him apart from other men. When he spoke finally, his words were shocking, but somehow, Brook expected them. 

“My name is Moge,” the prisoner said softly. “I am the King of the Polluge, the Mountain People.”

TBC


	9. History Lesson

As an artificial sun started to set behind an illusion of the horizon, two men moved silently through the lower levels of the Polluge castle. There were a few guards that spotted them, but these two men were quick to dispatch. A quick blow to the head from the hilt of a sword or a heel of a shoe guaranteed there would be a number of soldiers who would wake the next morning with headaches the likes of which they had never experienced before.

“No one even knows who we’re talking about,” Zoro growled in frustration. “Where the hell could he be?”

Sanji checked the pulse of the man he had just knocked unconscious. “Like I said, they have an armory, so they have to have a dungeon. We just have to keep heading down and we’ll eventually find it.”

“We’re heading down?” Zoro looked around curiously.

Sanji sighed. “Yes, idiot, we’re heading down.”

* * * *

Brook folded his legs underneath him carefully and straightened the cuffs of his jacket. The man sitting about ten feet from him in the wet darkness of the next cell stared at him with a very mild curiousness. Funny, considering people usually screamed or fainted when they saw an eight foot skeleton that moved and talked. It seemed all this Moge gentleman was going to do was watch him quietly. He hadn’t even asked how he had gotten to be an eight foot, walking, talking skeleton. That was usually the second thing people did after screaming or fainting.

“So, my good man,” Brook said quietly, “how does the king of the Polluge end up in the dungeon?”

Moge was quiet for a moment. He just sat and studied Brook with his dark eyes, his body lax and unmoving.

“How about the island,” Brook offered. “What can you tell me about this civilization under this mountain?”

Moge shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the bars that separated the two cells. The man had moved from the deep shadows and was now sitting in the dim glow from the torchlight down the long corridor.

“It’s not really that interesting of a story,” Moge said.

Brook waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, try me. What else are we going to do?”

Moge conceded the notion with a nod of his head. “Well, the history says that this place started as a prison. When the surrounding islands needed to get rid of particularly troublesome people, they sent them here to live under the mountain. They fixed it up to make it seem like the outside. They built the lights and the celling that looks like the sky, pipes that sprinkled water like rain, whatever was needed.” 

Brook scratched his jawbone with a slender finger. “That seems like a lot of work just to maintain a prison.” 

Moge nodded. “It does, but the books say the surrounding islands had strong beliefs against death penalties. Killing, even killing a hardened criminal, was considered the gravest of sins.”

“Ah, I see.” Brook’s interest was quickly mounting. “Weren’t they concerned about population? They send all the prisoners from three or four islands here, this place would get full and then they could have a potential army to control.”

“Yes,” Moge continued, “they thought of that. There was a lot of concern that the people inside the mountain would try to escape as soon as their numbers grew, so that’s why they started the Lotus Project.”

“Lotus Project?” Brook asked.

“Scientists from the islands made this… I don’t know what you’d call it, medicine? Toxin? Anyway, they rigged some kind of system into the oxygen filters that pumped this gas into the air. It combines with the chemicals that are in the food. It works like a sedative, making the people content. They don’t want to leave.”

If Brook had a heart, he knew it would be pounding against his rib cage right about now. His crew was up there right now getting pumped full of happy gas as they spoke! Unless they were dead! He needed to get out!

Clearing his throat, Brook pressed for more information. “So, if someone were to dismantle the filters the people would return to normal.”

“Oh no,” Moge said blithely, “you mess with the filtration there wouldn’t be any more oxygen.”

Well, scratch that plan.

“Besides,” Moge continued, “this place was made hundreds of years ago. The people that are here were born here. Who knows what would happen if they stopped breathing the gas or eating the food.”

Brook stood suddenly. Hundreds of years!? This civilization had been living underneath this mountain for hundreds of years!? What was he going to do? The musician started pacing, his brain running at a million miles an hour trying to think of a way out. 

Well, it would have been if he had a brain.

“You said this place used to be a prison. Do they still send ships with prisoners here? If they do we could just hijack one.” 

Moge shook his head. “The islands stopped bringing prisoners here a long time ago. They sealed everything up except the underwater entrance and forgot about us.”

Brook’s enthusiasm plummeted. If no one ever came or went from the island, then it was going to be significantly harder to get away. Flopping back down onto the floor in front of Moge, Brook folded his arms across his chest cavity and closed the eyes that he didn’t have.

On top of all the other problems, Brook knew he needed to face the fact that he might be the only one of his crew that was not affected. It was possible that Luffy and Zoro were still all right, it would take more than a little toxin to take them down, and Sanji might know when there was something weird in the food, but what about everyone else? And what if Luffy ate the food and it did work? What if Sanji didn’t notice?

“Are you okay, Brook?” Moge asked.

Brook nodded slowly. He needed to stay calm, focused. It wouldn’t help his situation at all if he panicked. 

“How do you know all this?” Brook asked.

Moge rubbed a hand over his face, smearing the dirt and grime that was already there. “I got curious about who my people were and why no one ever left and started looking through the books in the library. There’s a whole history section.”

Curious? “You got curious?” Brook asked.

Moge nodded. “I started thinking it was strange that no one ever talked about the outside world. No one questioned why we lived in a mountain. No one wondered why every single person that came here stayed. It just seemed strange. So I looked through the books and stumbled across a map of The Grand Line. It was mine. I remembered I used to travel the world searching for treasure with my crew, but then we came here and forgot what we were doing. We forgot our dreams…”

Brook sat for several long moments, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on his cheekbone. 

“Moge,” he asked finally. “I can understand why _I’m_ not affected by these chemicals. I have no stomach, and no lungs, but what about you? What did you do different that made you immune?”

“Uh…” Moge stared in confusion at Brook, as if the reason for his unaffectedness hadn’t even occurred to him. “Not really anything…”

Brook slammed his hand against the bars. “No! Think! There’s got to be something!”

“I…” Moge’s face scrunched up as he thought about what Brook said. “I don’t…well, I did have a minor surgery.”

Brook slapped his bone hand against his bone forehead sending a hollow “thunk” resonating through the dungeon.

“Oh!” Moge’s outburst surprised Brook enough to cause him to scoot backwards. “I also started to eat the forbidden fruits that grow outside the perimeter!”

Brook growled, his annoyance at Moge’s residual lax attitude making his bones creak. Surgery and eating forbidden fruit? That was definitely something. But at least now he knew there was hope for his crew.

“What kind of forbidden fruit?” Brook asked. “What did it look like?”

“Well,” Moge said, “it’s this berry-like thing that grows naturally outside the city limits. It’s small and green and has three pits.”

* * * *

Sanji whirled and sent two guards flying into the wall. They hit and slid to the ground, landing in a heap of tangled limbs.

“This has got to be it,” the cook said, motioning for Zoro to follow.

The swordsman trailed close behind, his swords low and ready. “How can you be sure?”

Sanji snickered. “Uh, the prison cells we’re passing?”

“Oh.”

* * * *

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you,” Brook said sadly. “I’ll help you in any way I can. We’ll find my captain and we’ll get your crew back. You can come to my ship and our cook will make you something that’ll flush out all the chemicals this island has put in you.”

Moge smiled for the first time. “That would be great.”

Brook stood and ran his hands over the bars. They were solid, heavy metal with reinforced hinges held together with a locking mechanism that Brook couldn’t even begin to think how to pick or break. He put his forehead to the bars and tried to see down the corridor. There was nothing but cells for about thirty yards and then torches started to illuminate the passage about every twenty feet. Brook couldn’t see any guards but he knew they were there, possibly just around the corner.

“First we have to figure out how to get out of here,” Brook murmured. He backed away from the bars, suddenly wishing he had his cane. “We might have to play the old Sick Prisoner game. Get one of the guards down here to open one of our cells to check on us, then at the right moment, surprise attack.”

Moge had stood as well. He now leaned against the bars separating his cell from Brook’s. He watched the musician with a blooming curiosity, a welcome sight to Brook’s eyes. It was so much better than the glazed, dead head look he’d had on before.

“That might work,” Moge said quietly. “You can play sick right here by the bars. I’ll scream for help and when the guards come to check you, I can reach through and smash their heads.”

Brook smiled at his new friend. “I applaud your enthusiasm.”

Moge actually chuckled. “Go ahead, lie down! I can scream about how you just dropped dead!”

Brook thought about that for a moment before he laughed. “That’s brilliant! Play dead, when I’m already dead! Yohohohoho!!” 

Brook did not get a chance to play however, because at that moment there was a loud slam of a door and a shout from one of the guards. Brook turned to listen, but the cries were quickly silenced. The musician heard soft murmuring coming from around the corner, then a low growl and a shout.

“I didn’t kill him! I just knocked him on the back of his head!”

It was Zoro’s voice.

“Oh, what perfect timing!” Brook laughed. “Zoro-san! _Zoooooorooo!_ ”

“Brook!” Sanji’s voice answered. “Brook! Is that you!?”

“It’s me! Your friend and humble ship’s musician!”

Moge pressed himself against the bars as two figures started to make their way down the corridor towards them. “Who are they, Brook? Your crewmates?”

Brook was practically dancing in his cell. Of course his nakama had found him! He had the greatest nakama in the world! 

Sanji made it to the cell door and rattled the bars. “Looks like a mother of a lock.”

Zoro gently pushed Sanji to the side and studied the door before he shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. 

“Screw locks.”

Zoro cut Brook’s cell door cleanly in two with a single strike from _Wado_. Free at last, Brook stepped through the sad remnants of the metal bars and tipped his hat to his first mate.

“I owe you one!” he chortled. 

Zoro shook his head. “You would have done the same for us.”

Brook nodded. “It’s true, I would have.”

Zoro reached behind him and pulled Brook’s cane from the back of his haramaki. “Here, thought you might want this.”

“Yohohohoho! Thank you!” Brook cried as he took his cane and twirled it lovingly. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Sanji said.

“Wait, please!” Brook’s voice stopped them both in their tracks. “My friend here, Moge, would probably like to be released as w—”

The words hadn’t even left his mouth and already Sanji was dropping to his hands to shatter Moge’s cell door with a Côtelette shot. Moge stood there in a stupor for a moment before the cook offered a hand to the shocked prisoner.

“You coming, or what?”

* * * *

“So, wait,” Zoro’s face was contorted in confusion as he looked at Moge, “you’re the Polluge king? They made you king even though you’ve only been here a few years?”

Moge shrugged. “They don’t have any kind of system for electing leadership. I said I’d try it and no one objected. It’s not like ruling really means anything anyway. Everyone has free reign of the palace, and there’s no crime to judge or anything. The only perk is that you get to sleep in the king’s bed.”

“Is it a nice bed?” Sanji asked.

“Yes.”

“And they just threw you in prison when you started to ask questions?” Zoro grumbled.

“Not exactly,” Moge shook his head. “They were fine with me asking questions. They just got a little freaked out when I started to talk about leaving. I think part of the spell the chemicals put on you is more than just wanting to stay here, it’s also wanting everyone else to stay too.”

“Oh, well that’s great.” Sanji murmured.

The four had escaped out of the dungeon with little to no difficulty. The guards they had passed had no idea where they had come from, nor did they seem to care, so after gawking a little at Brook and then a little more at Zoro’s swords, they had just moved on. After Sanji and the others had left the castle, they had moved down to the beach to regroup and plan their strategy for saving their friends. Sanji had made a fire, but had not even contemplated trying to find food, it was too dangerous. Unfortunate, because the cook knew the four of them needed nourishment. 

As they sat around the fire, Moge told them what he had already told Brook. He also told them a little more about himself. As it turned out, he had been the first mate on a ship called _Red Rose_. They had not been pirates, just a bunch of men that loved the ocean and had wanted to travel and see the world. They had happened on the mountain much like the Strawhats had, with a fake treasure map.

Turning to study Brook’s new friend, Moge, Sanji suddenly felt like he was witnessing a “what if” scenario. What had happened to this man could have easily happened to any of Sanji’s crew. Even to him. This man could have been Luffy twenty years from now, or Zoro, or Usopp. And poor Brook would have been lost down in the dungeon forever. It was frightening to think about. 

“We’ll help you find your crew,” Sanji scratched at his jaw as he spoke. Several days of stubble had built up and now his neck itched like crazy. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Luffy took down the entire mountain getting everyone out.”

“Once he’s back to normal,” Zoro added.

Sanji nodded. “Yeah, once he’s back to normal.”

Sanji smiled suddenly and elbowed Zoro’s arm. The swordsman glared at him but that did nothing to quell the laughter that threatened to burst from the cook’s lungs.

“What?” Zoro growled.

“I have to start planning what I’m gonna cook to flush everyone’s system.” Sanji grinned. “We should go looking for some Roronoa fruit.”

Zoro’s cheeks reddened. “Don’t call it that!”

“I’ll call it what I like!”

Moge interrupted before the two could really get into the play fighting. “What is a Roronoa fruit?”

Sanji put up a hand to stop Zoro from advancing. He was still grinning like a fool, but how could he help it? They find out the one thing that can slow or even stop the effects of the chemicals is that stupid Zoro fruit that Sanji just happened to find on the last island? That little mutant cherry that tasted so good and had finally bridged the gap between the ever-feuding Strawhat swordsman and cook was their last hope?

Yeah he was grinning, it was hilarious. It was ironic and hilarious.

“I’ll explain later,” Sanji patted Moge on the back. “First thing’s first, you and Brook go and find the rest of your crew. Maybe find where they sleep or something, just in case we have to make a quick getaway.”

“Which is more than likely,” Zoro grumbled. 

Brook stood and twirled his cane. “We’re on it! We will find as many of the _Red Rose’s_ crew as we can and meet you back here in a few hours.”

When Moge and Brook had disappeared around the beach berm, Zoro looked at Sanji over the fire curiously.

“You have that look. What are we going to do?”

Sanji scratched at his chin again and stood. “We really do need to see if we can find where the Roronoa fruit grows—”

“—I told you to stop—”

“—but I think we need to find Chopper first.”

Zoro stopped in mid argue. “Chopper?”

Sanji nodded and lit a cigarette. “Yeah, maybe Chopper can rig something up that’s better than just something to flush the chemicals out.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he can make a cure, or an antidote.”

Zoro’s eyes widened and he stood suddenly, slipping his swords into his haramaki. “That’s a really good idea.”

Sanji smiled. “I know.”

* * * *

Zoro crouched low behind a carved stone basin holding some kind of flowery, red plant. There was laughter on the other side of the structure and the smell of something sweet cooking on the grill wafted over to where he and Sanji were hiding. The swordsman’s stomach growled loudly and Sanji turned to give him a look. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softy.

Zoro’s eyebrows raised. “For what?”

Sanji shook his head and returned to scanning the area ahead. “I’m sorry that you’re hungry. We should have gone and looked for Roronoas before we did anything.”

Something fluttered in Zoro’s gut, something he tried to ignore because it was just too weak and embarrassing to think about. Okay, so Sanji cared about him a little, that was good, they were nakama after all. 

“It’s only been like half a day, stupid cook,” Zoro murmured. “I know you have this thing with people going hungry and all but I’ve been a lot hungrier than this before so don’t worry about me.”

Sanji looked back at him over his shoulder. His eyes were contemplative but also very tired. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and his skin was a lot more pale than usual. Zoro wondered suddenly if, even though he had spent the last few days sleeping, Sanji was pushing himself too hard. He was only a couple weeks out of surgery. Wasn’t all this damaging his wound? 

Zoro’s voice was quiet as he spoke. “If anyone around here needs food, it’s you.”

Sanji shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.”

“What about your incision? It can’t be good for you to run around kicking down prison cell doors with stitches in your side.”

Sanji looked at him for a moment before he turned around fully. His smile was wide and teasing as he asked, “Are you worried about me?”

Zoro felt his cheeks flush for the second time that evening. He started to look away, turn his face into the shadow so Sanji couldn’t see, but then he stopped. Suddenly, he didn’t care so much if Sanji saw. What would be so bad about Sanji knowing? They were friends. Friends cared about each other.

Trying not to grind his teeth, Zoro met Sanji’s eyes like a challenge. 

“Maybe.”

Sanji’s smile only widened. “Really?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Zoro glared at the cook. He just had to make everything difficult, didn’t he?

“Yeah.”

There was a pop and more laughter in the direction of the pool, but Sanji’s eyes never left Zoro’s. The cook didn’t even blink. He just kept staring at the swordsman with this stupid look like he had just won some prize.

“Come on,” Zoro growled. “Knock it off, let’s go find Chopper.”

Sanji said nothing. He turned around, checked to see if the coast was clear, and stood. Straightening his shirt and brushing the sand from his shorts, Sanji moved from behind the giant stone flowerpot and headed towards what looked like a party.

Zoro didn’t have to see it to know the grin was probably still there.

* * * *

Torches dotted the stone walkway and people dressed it practically nothing mingled at the side of the pool. On an upper level a fire was blazing in a large stone pit, and racks of fruits and vegetables roasted over the flame. Musicians played under a canopy, and tables filled with an assortment of breads and wines lined the space underneath the balcony. As Sanji passed the food and drink, his stomach growled like Zoro’s had earlier. As he made his way by women wearing basically a handkerchief, his mouth started to water.

“Evening ladies,” he smiled at a pair of dark-skinned, dark-haired beauties. They giggled and waved back as he passed by.

He glanced behind him and almost laughed when he took in Zoro’s haggard appearance. The swordsman had tried so hard to keep his cool when they had been talking earlier but had not done a very good job. The look on his face had been very appealing however, Sanji wasn’t going to lie. He liked embarrassed Zoro, a lot. In fact Sanji could say with a fair amount of certainty that it was the Marimo’s best look. 

Zoro caught Sanji looking and shot him a fantastic glare. It didn’t work. Sanji’s smile didn’t falter.

Turning away, Sanji spotted Robin and Franky sitting on the terrace. Robin had a glass of wine in her hand and Franky was chowing down on some of the grilled fruit. Luffy and the others were nowhere to be seen. Sanji turned back to Zoro and motioned to the terrace. The swordsman nodded and started to scan the crowd for the others. 

“I don’t see Luffy,” Zoro murmured softly.

“I don’t either,” Sanji replied, “but we don’t need him yet. We just have to find Chopper.”

“Shut up, I know,” Zoro grumbled. “I just don’t know where to lo—” 

_BOOM!!_

Both Sanji and Zoro turned towards the sound, both ready to face whatever attack was coming. 

“What the hell was that!?” 

“Don’t know!”

Laughter rang out around them, and then cheers and clapping. Sanji looked towards a group of people on the other side of the pool. They were crowded around something or someone surrounded by a cloud of purple and pink smoke.

Slowly Sanji’s guard relaxed and he headed towards the crowd. “Oh, let’s go that way.”

Zoro slid the few inches of his sword he had released back into its sheath. “What the hell? Why?”

Sanji beckoned him with his hand. “I think we just found Usopp.”

Sure enough, the young sniper was standing in the middle of the crowd with a smile on his face. Whatever the purple and pink smoke was, it had been Usopp’s doing. The people cheering and clapping around him were asking for another and, much to Sanji’s chagrin, a few girls were giggling and pressing as close as they could.

“Usopp!” Zoro called from behind Sanji.

Usopp looked up and spotted his crewmates coming. His smile widened and his hands started flailing in the air. 

“Sanji! Zoro! Where the hell have you been!? We’ve been having so much fun! Luffy won a cannonball contest, and Franky was lifting benches with girls on them, and Sanji I was telling everyone as soon as you got here that you’d take over the barbeque and—” 

“ _ZORO! SANJI_!!!”

Oh good.

A furry ball of cute slammed into Zoro, knocking him to the ground. The swordsman looked stunned for a moment but he quickly regained his composure and sat up. Chopper hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his broad chest.

“Oh my God, ZORO! You’ve been gone all day! I can’t believe it! The games were awesome! You should have been there!” Suddenly, the little doctor released Zoro and threw himself at Sanji. “And SANJI! How are you!? Do the stitches itch at all? Feeling tired or sluggish? Have you eaten anything? Make sure you eat some of the bread and have some of the things that look like red oranges! And drink some water! No wine! And don’t go in the pool! If you do you’ll—”

Sanji silenced Chopper with a hand over the little reindeer’s mouth.

“Chopper, Chopper, calm down.” Sanji couldn’t help but smile. Drugged or not, chemically altered perception or not, Chopper was still Chopper. 

“Seriously, where have you guys been?” Usopp was at their side, helping Zoro to his feet.

Zoro straightened his haramaki and folded his arms over his chest. “We were looking for Chopper.”

“Yes!” Chopper smiled. “And you found me!”

“Not for me?” Usopp pouted.

Zoro looked like he was about to say no, but Sanji butted in. “Of course, Usopp! We were looking for both of you!”

“Oh really?” Usopp perked up. “Why? What’s up?”

“Uh well,” Zoro cleared his throat. “We wanted to um…”

“We wanted to show you guys something,” Sanji grinned. 

“Really? What?” Chopper asked.

“It’s uh…” Sanji chewed on his lip. “It’s this great… place that we found! Kind of… off past the… perimeter…”

Usopp made a face. “Past the perimeter? Man, I don’t want to walk all the way over there, that’s out past the fields! We’d be walking through their farmlands for hours!”

“Yeah,” Chopper made a face, “It’s dark, and we’d miss the rest of the party!”

Sanji and Zoro both looked at their friends and then each other. They shrugged as one, and then turned back to their smaller crewmates.

“Sorry you guys,” Sanji said.

Two fists came down on two different heads, and immediately Usopp and Chopper were out cold and in Zoro’s arms.

When a few curious heads turned, Sanji chuckled and waved his hands in dismissal. “Way too much to drink.”

There was laughter as Zoro slung Usopp’s body over his shoulder and tucked Chopper’s under his arm. “Let’s go get Brook,” he said.

* * * *

It was almost two hours later that Usopp started to stir. Zoro felt him moving against his back, and immediately dropped him. He landed with a solid _plop_ on the gravelly earth just outside the orchards. They had made their way through rows and rows of what looked like apple and pear trees, but the leaves were strange shapes and colors that Zoro had never seen before.

“Aw, man…” Usopp sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “What happened?”

Chopper, who was sitting on Brook’s shoulders, waved to him. “You drank too much and fell down the stairs. At least, that’s what Sanji told me.”

Usopp rubbed at his head again. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Zoro muttered. “Come on, we gotta get to the wall outside the perimeter.”

Reluctantly, Usopp followed. Moge led them up through a rocky passage and down to a small valley against the wall of the mountain. When they neared the wall, Moge raised his torch and pointed ahead.

“There! Look!”

“Holy crap!” Chopper exclaimed. 

Zoro turned to see what the man was pointing at, and when he did, his eyes widened in surprise. Growing up the wall for miles were thick, curling vines covered in large yellow leaves and thousands of the green berries that Sanji had brought aboard the _Sunny_ only a month ago. His chest gave a pang as memories flooded his head, thoughts of Sanji inviting him into the kitchen and sharing the fruit with him before he shared it with the rest of the crew, Sanji making him snacks and desserts that he didn’t make anyone else, Sanji grinning at him over a mouthful of pits, and Sanji smiling at him when Zoro had made the jam.

Zoro swallowed. This little fruit was more than just the thing that would save them from this underground prison; it was more than the antidote that would cure the want to stay here…

It was the reason that Sanji was his friend. It was the catalyst that had started it all.

Suddenly, Zoro’s stomach growled and his mouth watered. He glanced at Sanji but the cook just smiled and lit a cigarette.

“Oh my God! Sanji! It’s your mutant cherry!” Usopp shouted, running for the wall.

“Brook! Let me down please!” Chopper cried. “I want some!”

Moge looked at Sanji curiously. “Mutant cherry?”

Sanji grinned. “It’s called Roronoa.”

Zoro growled and turned away in embarrassment. Why the whole thing embarrassed him was still sort of a mystery, but he decided he would rather not think about it. He was hungry. After joining Usopp, Chopper and Brook at the wall, Zoro grabbed a few handfuls to take the edge off his hunger. Then when Zoro turned and noticed that Sanji had not joined them, he pulled his bandana from his arm and gathered as many as he could. Making his way over to the cook, he offered what he had collected to the blond knowing his cheeks were no doubt as red as cherry tomatoes. Sanji smiled softly at him and took a small handful. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

The two Strawhats watched as Moge joined their other crew members at the wall. He had left the torch sticking in the ground a few yards away, just far enough so that Zoro could see Sanji, but not bright enough to see him clearly. 

Zoro wasn’t sure if it was the leftover effects of the chemical, or if it was just the act of sharing a handful of freshly picked “Roronoa”, but Zoro felt something tighten in his chest. He felt a strange coiling in his gut like something was pulling gently inward on all his parts. It was strange and terrible and wonderful and exciting all at once. He was sure he had felt this way once before but it had been a long time ago, with a girl he used to train with, so he wasn’t sure.

“So what do we do now?” Zoro asked.

Sanji spit out seeds and slipped another of the fruit into his mouth. “I don’t know. I guess we wait.”

Zoro sighed as he chewed quietly. “Chopper was asking a lot of question about your wound.”

Sanji nodded. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Does it itch or whatever?”

Sanji shook his head. “No, I don’t really feel anything. I haven’t had time to. I’m just tired from running around all day without any real food.”

Zoro nodded. He was worried about Sanji’s incision but he also knew the cook wouldn’t want to look weak in front of him. He trusted that Sanji would say if something was wrong, so he decided not to press the issue.

“You have a plan if this works?” Zoro asked.

Sanji puffed on his cigarette. “Kind of. Depends on if Chopper can—”

As if on cue, there was a loud retching and Zoro looked up to see Chopper doubled over with his front hoofs on his knees. 

“Chopper?” Brook cried.

“It’s okay!” Sanji said as he and Zoro rushed forward. “It’s okay, this is exactly what happened to Zoro!”

The cook put a hand on Chopper’s back. The little doctor breathed heavily and coughed a few times before he was able to speak.

“Oh my God…” he panted. “What happened?”

Sanji leaned down and gently took Chopper’s hat from his head, “Long story, buddy.”

“Oh, my head hurts!” the doctor moaned.

“Oh wow, I think I’m gonna hurl too,” Usopp groaned.

“That’s good,” Zoro said. “That’s what we need you to do.”

“Why do I feel all funny?” Chopper asked. “Why am I dizzy?”

“Chemicals,” Sanji said simply. “Here, sit.” He led Chopper to a rock and sat the little reindeer down.

“Chemicals?” Chopper said as he wiped at his eyes.

“Yes,” Brook moved to squat next to the doctor. “It’s kind of complicated.”

Chopper blinked a few times and then his eyes started to clear. He looked at Sanji and then at Brook, glancing at Zoro quickly before studying Moge. The little reindeer’s ears started to twitch as he started to whisper under his breath.

“Chemicals… Chemicals… dizziness, vomiting… disorientation, headache… chemicals… disorientation— _on my God!_ ” he stood quickly and turned toward Usopp.

“Usopp! Usopp you need to puke right now! Right NOW! Stick your finger down your throat!”

Zoro knew it was wrong. He knew it was immature and horribly, horribly wrong, but he could not stop himself. He laughed. When he turned to Sanji and the cook was laughing as well, he laughed some more. 

“That’s the Chopper we all know and love,” Sanji chuckled.

Zoro wrapped his fingers around _Wado’s_ hilt and sat on the rock Chopper had just left to go holler at Usopp. Zoro looked at Sanji and the cook sighed, an easy smile on his face.

“Ready to go get Luffy?”

TBC


	10. Escape

One of the terraces on the East side of the Polluge castle overlooked the largest of the leisure pools and the lower level hanging gardens. It was a surreal view—one that you would think could only be seen in paintings. The trellises stood high, carved from wood and bleached to bone white. They stood over rows of lush greens and held curling vines of sleeping buds ready for the morning. Fountains made of marble and stone dotted the pathways and the quiet trickle of water served as a soothing background melody. 

As two figures sat admiring this view, the artificial sun cleared the horizon and started its slow climb through a false sky. It was a beautiful sun, impossible to discern from the real one. As it shown over the hanging gardens, all manner of colors seemed to burst from the awakening flowers. The fruits that hung from the trellises appeared to glow. 

“Quite a sight.”

“Yeah… it’s pretty Super.”

The man and the woman had been lounging on the terrace since the night before, eating, drinking, and watching the party below. As people had begun to retire and the music and merry-making had died down, the two had opened maps and discussed the structure of the Polluge city. When morning had started to break, their conversation had trailed off and they had watched in awe at the sunrise. 

The man glanced over as the woman tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “Hard to believe it’s not real,” he murmured.

She nodded, her look was melancholy.

“What is it?” he asked.

She shrugged gracefully. “I don’t know. I just feel like something’s… off.”

The man grinned. “It’s probably just you being depressing again.”

Her eyes slid over to him, and her lips turned up in the smallest of smiles. 

“Maybe.”

This gentle flirting would have continued if four pairs of arms (one of them suspiciously skeletal) had not appeared and pulled the man and the woman from their chairs. There was a quick squabble, and then a tiny reindeer in a pink hat moved in and pressed a container of fruity, green liquid to the woman’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, Robin!” Chopper cried. “I’m so sorry! Just drink this! It’ll counteract the toxin and you’ll be back to normal! _I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t squeeze! Ow! Ow! Don’t squeeze!!!_ ”

* * * *

“I don’t get it!” Franky growled. “This is like one of those ‘choose your own adventure’ books I used to read as a kid! I mean it can’t be real, it’s too messed up!”

“I assure you, it’s very real,” Moge said calmly. “We need to find our captains and get out of here.”

“Therein lies the problem, however,” Robin murmured, “how exactly are we going to get out? The C.R.A.B. is too small to hold two separate crews, and in researching the layout of the city, I found nothing to suggest that there are any other ships. No passages to the outside except for the one under water.”

“What about the opening they sealed off?” Brook asked. “You know the gates where they used to bring in ships with new prisoners?”

Robin nodded, “I had thought of that, but there’s no guarantee that if we were to get to those gates that we could get them open. The history records are not specific on how they sealed them. It could have been some kind of welding, or they could have used dynamite and blocked them off with an avalanche, there’s no way to know.”

“Where are the gates?” Sanji asked, his lips teasing the end of a cigarette.

“Here,” Robin said, pointing on the city map. “There’s an old docking bay underneath the castle. If someone were to get the gates open, they would come out to a cove that’s only a mile or maybe a mile and a half from where _Sunny_ is anchored.”

Franky pounded a fist into his palm. “So if we can get the gates open, we could sail _Sunny_ right into the castle!”

Robin nodded, “Yes, but only if you can get the gates open. There’s still the possibility that this underground docking bay has been completely destroyed.” 

Sanji shrugged. “So Franky and I will go down there and see if it’s accessible,” the cook turned to Franky then and grinned, “and if it’s not, we’ll see if we can _make_ it accessible.”

Franky shot Sanji a thumbs-up. “I got your back, bro. I’m feelin’ pretty Super today!”

“What are we going to do about Luffy?” Zoro asked from across the room. 

Chopper’s voice was weary as he answered, “I’m sure the antidote will work. I just don’t know what kind of side effects he’s going to experience. With his metabolism and his rubber body, anything is possible.”

“Do we know here he is?” Robin asked.

Chopper nodded. “Right now he should be in the great hall with King Hatmet. There was a party with music and dancing scheduled for this morning.”

“What about Nami-san?” Sanji asked, a little too enthusiastically.

“We’ll find her, Sanji,” Chopper reassured him, “She’s probably with Luffy, or at least she’ll be where the festivities are.”

“All right,” Robin straightened, “So Sanji and Franky will go down to the docking bay and see if the old gates can be opened. Zoro and Chopper, focus on Luffy. Brook, Usopp, and I will go with Moge to gather the rest of his crew.” 

“Simple,” Zoro grunted.

“Okay, wait,” Usopp put up his hands, “let me see if I got all of this straight: Zoro and Chopper are going to find Luffy and give him an antidote that might—I say again, _might_ —cure him, but probably not because he’s eaten half the food under the mountain, and really it’s probably going to cause him to spontaneously combust or something, and then me and Robin and Brook have to go and make an entire crew that is perfectly content with living here leave—right after puking their guts up, and then Sanji and Franky are going to go down into the bowls of this city, to _maybe_ open an escape route that _may or may not even exist anymore!!??_ ”

There was silence for a moment, but then Zoro spoke.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

Usopp looked from the swordsman to the other Strawhats in turn, but then his shoulders sagged and he sighed heavily.

“Okay. Just checking.”

* * * *

Judging by the fact that not a single one of the guards had recognized Brook when he had emerged from the dungeon, Robin’s group figured it was probably safe for Moge to walk about the party. Moge was, after all, a fairly normal-looking person, and if the Polluge had forgotten something as sensational as a walking eight foot skeleton, there was probably no risk of Moge getting caught.

As the group reached the great hall, they were greeted by several servants who offered them goblets and platters of different fruits and nuts. Robin and Brook turned them down politely, but Usopp’s face turned a little green as he half-flailed and said something unintelligible. The servants took the hint and bowed graciously as they moved away. 

“Do you see your crew?” Brook asked Moge softly.

The first-mate nodded. “Most of them are seated around that table by the pillar. Captain’s over by the king as his attendants… and the rubbery guy.”

“That’s our captain,” Usopp said.

“Really?”

“Moge, stay with Brook,” Robin murmured, “Usopp, stay with me. We’ll spread out and start gathering Moge’s crew. We’ll meet back at the bottom of the stairs and head down to the docking bay together.”

“And if it’s sealed and it’s not the way out?” Usopp asked quietly.

Robin’s eyes were dark and clouded as she calmly surveyed the room. “Then we make a new plan.”

Usopp slapped his palms to his cheeks and wailed. “We’re gonna _die!_ ”

* * * *

Franky looked right and then left, ran a hand through his limp hair, and then started down another corridor. Sanji and the shipwright had been descending deeper and deeper into the mountain for the last half hour, and now the dark, stone walls and passageways were blurring together. 

That, however, was not really at the top of the problem list. Sanji hadn’t said anything earlier, because he knew his crewmates didn’t need anything more on their plates, but he hurt. A lot.

The pain had started as a dull ache just beneath his ribs. It wasn’t anything too terrible, not like when his ribs were actually broken, and his incision had not been sore or itchy or anything, it had just been a minor annoyance that had left him needing to stop and remember to breathe slowly once in a while. Kicking in the door to Moge’s cell however, had aggravated it significantly. He had definitely pulled or torn something and now the ache was something a little more debilitating. His lungs were tight, his entire side felt like it had been ripped open with a dull knife, and his incision let out a wail of protest every time he turned his body even slightly. He was nauseous, his head pounded, and he knew his temperature was rising because, despite the fact that he was sweating, chills rolled through his limbs and down his spine. 

“Hey, Sanji,” Franky said at his side, “Bro, you gonna be okay?”

Sanji nodded and pushed through another set of double doors. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause you really look like shi—”

“I’m good, Franky,” Sanji said firmly as he wiped sweat from his hairline. “Let’s just find this docking bay.”

“It should be just ahead. If you listen you can hear the water. That’s a good sign, means that there’s a current, and if there’s a current then there’s—”

“—an outlet to the ocean.”

“Right!” Franky’s voice echoed off the walls. “Even if the gates are sealed, we might still be able to swim out and bring _Sunny_ around!”

“We’ll get the gates open,” Sanji growled. “I don’t care if they’re sealed or not.”

“Yeah!” Franky cheered. “That’s the spirit!”

As it turned out, the gates had been sealed, but it looked as if time and the pounding of the waves from outside had weakened the hold. As Sanji and Franky rounded the last bend and came out into the old docking bay, sunlight, _real_ sunlight, poured in through a small crack above the gigantic metal gates. Sanji stood for just a moment and let that warmth touch his face. He breathed in the free air, and for one moment, he forgot his pain.

“This is great!” Franky exclaimed. “It’s a real crappy welding job! The current from the ocean has been pushing and pulling at the base of the gates, loosening where the welding of the doors has started to rust! A few good hits right there, and probably there, should break the whole thing apart!”

Sanji nodded. It was going to take a lot out of him, but he could do it. Just a couple kicks and the gates would be open. They could get out, get _Sunny_ and bring her back to take the crew away from this awful place.

“Let’s do this,” he growled.

It took more than a few kicks, but with Franky’s help, the two Strawhats managed to crack the welding and pry the gates apart. Sanji tread water as he watched the blue-haired shipwright climb the rock face and turn the handle for the pulley system. Gears creaked and a loud, metal groan rang out as the gates slowly started to open.

“ _YEAH! SUUUPER!! We did it, Sanji!!_ ”

Sanji chucked, pulling himself out of the water. He sat on the dock and retrieved his cigarette pack from where he had left it with his jacket and tie. He lit up and inhaled, letting the smoke fill his lungs and give the illusion that it was soothing the ache.

“All right!” Franky called out as he climbed down to the ledge. “Let’s go get _Sunny_!”

Sanji took another drag and shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”

Franky turned to him, confusion etched into the lines of his face, but then understanding settled into his features.

“You’re not okay, are you, bro?”

Sanji shook his head.

Franky studied him for a moment before he nodded. “I got this, you stay here and rest. We don’t want Chopper having some kind of hysterical fit later, do we?”

Sanji chuckled again and shook his head. “No, that would be bad.”

Franky saluted him. “Okay, I’ll see you when I get back! ONWARD! SUPER CANON-BALL FRANKY!!”

The shipwright posed as he flung himself into the water, and then surfaced and swam out into the daylight. 

Sanji watched his friend as he shrank against the horizon. He felt bad for lying, but there was something he had to do, pain or no pain, _Sunny_ or no _Sunny_. He snuffed out his cigarette and stood slowly, his hand clenched over his wound. 

“Sorry, Franky…” he said softly.

* * * *

“You know,” Chopper said quietly as he and Zoro neared the king’s table, “of all the messes Luffy’s gotten himself into, this might be the easiest to get him out of.”

Zoro frowned. “Huh? How?”

Chopper held up the vial of fruit concoction. “Hey, Luffy, drink this.”

“Oh, right.”

It was true, of all the crises Luffy had managed to get himself into, the way to get him out of this one was getting him to ingest something. It could have been worse. Zoro would have chuckled if he hadn’t had so many things on his mind already. Getting Luffy might not be a problem, but Zoro really hoped that Chopper remembered the way to the underground docks, because he sure as hell didn’t. And then there was the possibility that they wouldn’t even be open. And then there was this whole other crew they were going to have to take care of. They weren’t pirates, so were they fighters? Was he going to have to babysit?

And then, on top of all that, there was Sanji. Zoro already had so many confusing feelings towards the idiot cook it was unbelievable, and now there was the fact that during the Strawhat’s meeting Sanji had serious looked like he was about to die. The cook had seemed off when they were picking the mutant fruits, and he hadn’t really eaten all that much, but Zoro had chalked it up to Sanji’s obsession with making sure everyone else was fed before himself. But now, now he was worried. Worried about the _fucking cook_. Zoro shouldn’t have to be worried about the stupid bastard. Sanji was strong and capable and Zoro knew he could always depend on him if he needed him…

But what if Sanji was getting sick again? What if his wounds were infected or torn or something from all the shit they had gone through the last few days? _God damnit_ , they had sent the cook down to the docks to potentially break down giant steel doors. _Shit_. Why hadn’t he volunteered to do that!?

“Luffy!” Chopper’s voice pulled Zoro from his thoughts.

“Chopper! Zoro!” Luffy exclaimed, wrapping both his doctor and his first mate in a tight hug. “What’s up? Isn’t this a great party!? They just keep bringing me food and drinks and they let me slingshot stuff out the windows and—”

“That’s really great, Luffy,” Chopper said distractedly as he poured the vial of mutant juice in a goblet and shoved it into Luffy’s hands. “Here, drink this.”

“Sure!” 

Zoro watched as Luffy tossed back the antidote. The swordsman wasn’t sure what he had expected, maybe that his captain would turn and throw up a substantial amount of food, or that he would pass out or something, but none of those things happened. After swallowing, and then going very still for a few seconds, Luffy just blinked a few times and belched loudly.

“Wow, that was good,” he said quietly. When he looked over at Zoro, he had lost that glazed look and his eyes were clear and back to what Zoro considered normal.

“Zoro, what are you doing here? Wait,” the captain glanced around quickly, “Where are we? Chopper? What’s going on?”

“No time to explain, Luffy,” Chopper said and hopped to the ground. “Zoro and I wanted to show you something! Come with us!”

“Cool! Let’s go!” Luffy stood and started to follow Chopper out of the great hall, giving the king and the attendants a quick wave over his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me sit at your table, important-osans! I don’t remember what we were doing but it was probably cool since I’m not tied up!”

“Come on, Luffy,” Zoro murmured, trying to push his captain along.

“What’s the rush, Zoro?” Luffy asked as they passed by some servants. “Oh, hey! This looks good!”

“NO! LUFFY!” 

Too late. Before Zoro could stop him, Luffy had scooped up something that looked like a cross between a watermelon and a pineapple and had swallowed it.

“God damnit, Luffy!” Chopper screeched. 

“Woa, what’s wrong guys?” Luffy grinned. “It’s a party! Let’s eat!”

As the two Strawhats watched in baffled amazement, Luffy took an entire tray of various fruits and tipped it into his mouth.

“Unbelievable…” Zoro growled. 

Chopper slapped his hoof to his forehead. “Okay, new plan: let’s get him down to the docking bay and _then_ we’ll give him the antidote.”

“Good idea.”

“Luffy!” Chopper pulled at his captain’s shirt.

Luffy paused in the middle of shoving another giant waterapple into his mouth and smiled down at the little reindeer. “Hey, Chopper! What’s up!? Great party, huh?”

Zoro had had enough. He slipped behind Luffy and wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. “Hey, Luffy,” he said softly, “you’re never going to believe this.”

“Zoro!” Luffy’s grin widened. “You should try this!”

“Later. Did you know that down in the basement they have meat stored away?”

Luffy’s grin evaporated and his eyes widened. “Meat? Really?”

“Yeah,” Zoro continued conspiratorially. He lowered his voice and whispered into Luffy’s ear. “They hide it away down there because they don’t like sharing it with pirates like us.”

Luffy puffed up his chest. “That’s awful! Meat should be shared with everyone!”

“I know right?”

“They keep meat in the basement?” Chopper exclaimed, looking up at Zoro.

Zoro turned to the doctor and both his eyes twitched.

“Oh!” Chopper suddenly understood. “Hey! I know where it is, Luffy!”

Luffy fist-pumped and turned serious eyes in Chopper’s direction. “Lead on Chopper. Show me where they keep this meat!”

* * * *

After some careful consideration and observation, Brook discovered that Moge’s lax attitude had nothing to do with the lingering effects of the toxin. The seemingly unconcerned and blasé manner that the _Red Rose’s_ first mate held, was pretty much the personality type of the entire crew, especially their captain, Iggy Nox. 

Iggy was a large man with a full beard and green eyes that were dull but kind. He took the antidote that Moge offered him without much thought, and after a few humorous faces, turned and wretched into a trash can. 

“Oh my,” he said in a gruff, smokers voice, “what’s going on?”

“We’re a couple years behind schedule, Captain,” Moge said softly, “We’ve settled in with the Polluge people and forgot all about the treasure hunt.”

Iggy stared at his first mate for several seconds before he murmured, “Bummer.”

The rest of the crew was no different. Brook and Moge handed the antidotes to six others and then met up with Robin, Usopp and five more at the bottom of the stairs. Usopp motioned with his head towards a stairwell and they all followed. 

“Hey,” a voice rang out behind them, “Where are all of you going?”

Brook turned and had planned on giving an amazing performance to confuse and disorient the guards and their sudden interest, but Robin beat him to it. A pair of slender arms grew from each of the guard’s shoulders, and hands with beautifully manicured fingernails clamped down over both their mouths.

“Go,” Robin said softly, “I’ll catch up.”

Brook let the others pass him on the way to the stairs before he tipped his hat to the dark-haired beauty.

“Don’t break anything,” he said quietly, “They’re pretty nice people, despite their shortcomings.”

Robin smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll just tie them up and leave them in a closet somewhere.”

* * * *

“OH WOW!!”

Luffy’s voice resonated through the underground cave, bouncing off the high ceiling and dancing over the gentle roll of the waves. The smell of the ocean hit Zoro’s senses, and the sunshine was warm on his face as he turned the last corner into the old docking bay. The reflection of the light on the water was so beautiful, the swordsman had to stop for a moment and take it in. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much he had missed the real sun.

“Oh!” Chopper exclaimed, “It’s so beautiful! Zoro! Can you believe it!?”

Zoro nodded and watched the little doctor run after their rubbery captain.

“Wait! Luffy, wait! I have something for you! Come here and drink this!”

“Zoro!” Usopp’s voice was in his ear suddenly, and the swordsman turned. The sniper was grinning at him as he approached. “You made it! And you found Luffy!”

Zoro nodded. “Yeah, but Chopper might need some help catching him. We gave him the antidote once already, but he ate a bunch of food again.”

Usopp rolled his eyes. “Gaaahh, okay, I’ll go see if I can… _LUFFY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET DOWN FROM THERE!_ ”

Zoro turned from his flailing friend and watched as thirteen large and haggard looking men, who Zoro assumed were the _Rose’s_ crewmembers, filed into the bay. They blinked at the glare from the sun and moved cautiously down the planks to the water’s edge.

“They haven’t seen the real sun in years,” Brook said softly as he came to stand beside Zoro. “It’s such a tragedy.”

Zoro nodded. He felt for the men, it was terrible that they had lost so much time because of their love of adventure, and it was even worse if any of them had families or loved ones waiting for them. But Zoro also knew that what was done was done. What they needed to focus on now was getting off this stupid island and getting these men home.

“Yeah! Look everybody!” Luffy cried from his perch on a giant metal gear. “It’s _Sunny_!”

Zoro looked to see the familiar outline of their ship coming around and into the cove. 

Turing to Brook, Zoro clapped the skeleton on the back. “In just a few more minutes we’ll be out of this place forever.”

“Thank God.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, gentlemen,” Robin’s soft voice spoke up behind them, “but we might not have a few minutes.”

Zoro didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to know why they were all about to die, or be frozen to death, or buried alive, or whatever other horrible disaster that was about to hit them. 

Brook asked anyway.

“Why not?”

Robin stepped up beside Zoro and sighed. “Well, apparently there’s a watch tower that was built recently that has a perfect view of the gates. I didn’t know about it because it wasn’t on the map we looked over. I guess a guard saw Sanji and Franky break the gates open and went to tell the king.”

“Great,” Zoro growled.

“There’s more,” Robin said softly.

Zoro closed his eyes. “Do I want to know?”

Robin moved in close and whispered into his ear. “Yes, Zoro, I believe you want to know this.”

Zoro cracked one eye and glared at the woman.

“It seems only one person left to retrieve _Sunny_.”

Frowning, Zoro turned to Robin and crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that mean?”

“Well, apparently, our cook has decided to go back up into the castle.”

Zoro’s heart skipped a beat. His stomach did a kind of strange flip-flop as he tried to swallow. “What? Why would he do that? What the hell is wrong with him!?”

Robin glanced around and tilted her head in that infuriatingly calm way. “Who else from our crew do you see is missing, swordsman-san?”

Zoro took a quick look and when he realized what Robin was talking about, he cursed under his breath.

Nami.

“Son of a bitch, I completely forgot about her.”

“Obviously, cook-san did not.”

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he have forgotten Nami!? He was so fucking worried about the stupid, fucking cook that he had forgotten his job as first mate?! 

He turned back to Robin. “Make sure everybody gets on board. Don’t wait for us, we’ll find the C.R.A.B. and get out the other way.”

Robin nodded and Zoro whirled around.

“LUFFY!” Zoro roared, “LUFFY GET OVER HERE!”

* * * *

Sanji twisted and brought his foot down on another head. Another body fell limply to the floor. A trail of unconscious Polluge guards was in the cook’s wake as he moved through the halls of the castle. No one was safe, not guards, not servants, no one. He had come back up to the castle to make sure Nami was brought safely to the dock, but when he had returned to the party, he had seen her. 

His pain had been forgotten as he had surveyed the room carefully. He saw Brook and Moge gathering the _Red Rose_ crew and Zoro and Chopper leading Luffy down the stairs, but not a sign from the navigator. His heart had started to pound against his chest as he had moved silently from pillar to pillar, trying to listen to conversations, trying to find any clues as to where she might be. Finally, he had heard a group of people talking about how the party was spreading to the East wing of the castle. More room was required to accommodate the different tastes in the music and some of the dances required a ball room type of area. Hearing this, Sanji had headed east, hoping she had just moved to suit her style.

Nothing. Nami had not been in either of the ballrooms, and had not been watching any of the musical groups playing on the various makeshift stages. Heart hammering against his ribcage, Sanji had started to climb stairs and kick down doors. The upstairs halls were filled with people doing a little more than just listening to music, and with every door Sanji opened, and with every new scene he witnessed inside each room, Sanji hoped and prayed harder that he would not find Nami anywhere near these kinds of festivities.

Finally, at the end of a long, corridor stood a set of tall, decorative doors. Sanji moved forward, swallowing a large lump in the back of his throat. When he heard the familiar laughter from inside his heart stopped and his chest tightened painfully. It was definitely Nami’s voice. She was definitely in there. 

Placing his hands on the door, Sanji pushed and the creak of old hinges rang out in the hall. Inside, several people looked up and smiled at the cook as he entered.

“Hello there,” a beautiful blond said from her perch on a large cushion, “Come to join the fun?” Several others, a few men included, beckoned to him as well.

On any other day, Sanji would have jumped on the chance to be part of such a fantastic display of smooth skin and silk and cushions and… positions… But right now, all he cared about was finding Nami. Nami was all that mattered.

“Nami-san,” he said carefully, “Are you in here?”

“Sanji-kun?”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Nami-san! Where are you?”

The silk curtains that hung around the bed parted, and Nami’s face appeared, her lips pulled into the strangest of smiles. “Sanji-kun, what are you doing here?” 

For a moment, Sanji found it very hard to breathe. Nami was wearing nothing but a golden chain around her belly, a thick golden choker around her neck, and an assortment of bracelets and anklets. Her naked body was something like a force of nature. Sanji had watched Nami for many months as she walked around in clothes that left nothing to the imagination (and granted his imagination was very good), but it was one thing to imagine it, and another completely different thing to see it in front of you. Her shape was perfection, every line, every curve, every inch of muscle and bone. Her smooth skin shone with body oil, the sweet-smelling perfume of it lingered in the room, easy to decipher from all the other smells of wine and sex and sweat. Her hair was that tussled, bed-muddled perfect that Sanji had dreamed of seeing every day since he had first laid eyes on her. It fell across her face just like he had always imagined. It framed her perfect jaw like it did in every one of his fantasies. 

Seeing Nami like that, and then remembering where they were and what was happening, Sanji felt a sharp pang in his chest. This was not anything like what he wanted from Nami and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“Nami-san, we need to go…” 

“I agree,” her delicate fingers beckoned to him from between the curtains. “Come here, Sanji-kun,” she said, sweetly. 

Her voice was very persuasive, but Sanji held his ground. “I can’t Nami-san, not like this.”

She yanked the curtains aside so he could see the bed, and the three other figures that shared it with her. One was a woman with long, dark hair and the other two were men, one of which seemed to take the exposure as an invitation and started to run his large hands over Nami’s thighs.

Sanji seethed.

“Nami-san…” he growled between his teeth.

Nami scoffed. “What, Sanji? What are you going to do? You talk and you flirt and you act like a player, but when it comes down to it ‘you can’t’.”

“No, Nami-san, that’s not… I would gladly, but not like this, with all of...” he gestured around at the naked, writhing people, “… _this_.”

Nami rolled her eyes and put an arm around the man sliding his hands up her hips. 

“This guy bothering you, babe?” he asked.

“Who is he?” the dark-haired woman asked, “He’s really cute.”

Nami settled back against the man and sighed. “He’s my ship’s cook. He’s good, and he’s a good fighter, but as a man...” She looked at Sanji from behind heavy lashes, blinking slowly, provocatively. 

“…he’s worthless.”

Sanji’s heart stung.

“Really? The smaller man on the bed moved forward and put himself in a provocative position on his hands and knees. “I’m sure we could fix that.”

“Don’t bother,” Nami said. “He croons and he talks like he’s a big deal, but he’s a child.”

Sanji knew that this wasn’t his Nami. He knew, deep down that this woman on the bed, letting herself be groped by strangers, was nothing like the woman he had come to know and respect. The drugs from the food and the air had changed her. He knew the real Nami would never do anything like this. Never.

Knowing that however, didn’t make it hurt any less.

Pushing his emotional pain in the same place as his physical, Sanji focused on getting his navigator out of there. If he had to take down every sing person in this room, he would. He didn’t have a problem with that.

Taking a step forward, Sanji slipped his hands in his pockets and growled at the man that was touching Nami’s skin.

“Let go of her now, or I’ll kill you.”

The man on his hands and knees moaned softly. “Oh Nami, how can you not want him, he’s so hot…”

Nami smiled coyly. “Why don’t you make him, Sanji?”

“Yeah,” the man sneered, “Make me.

In retrospect, they had asked for it. If in the foreseeable future, if Sanji ever felt bad about what he did in the next few seconds, he could always go back and remember that the man really had told Sanji to “make him”.

One step, a twist, and there was a crack and a splash of blood on the sheets. The man released Nami and his hands flew to his face. He screamed as blood poured from his nose. The other man and the woman on the bed stared in silent shock as Sanji pulled Nami from the sheets and tore the curtain from the canopy. 

“Sanji!” Nami growled, “Let me go! What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re getting out of here.” Sanji gently gripped the back of Nami’s head and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

He cracked his forehead against hers and she fell limp in his arms. He wrapped her body in the silk curtain and held her close. 

Two large men jumped up from the floor and advanced. “You can’t leave,” one of them said.

Sanji ducked the first attack and bent low, taking Nami with him as he swiped the first man’s feet out from underneath him. The second man came from the opposite side and tried to take Nami from his grasp. The cook twisted, bending his body backwards, planning on bringing his leg up and slamming his leg down on the man’s head. 

But agony exploded from his side and Sanji almost fell to the ground. He recovered and the last moment and pulled himself out of the direct line of attack. 

“ _Shit… fuck!_ ” 

Luckily, his attacker was not that quick on his feet. Even with the intense pain, and Nami’s weight against him, Sanji was able to side-step and take out one of the man’s knees. He cried out and fell to the floor, clutching his leg. 

Three more came at him, but Sanji managed to evade with small, precise movements and incapacitated all three attackers with quick hits to the shins and ankles. When the cook realized the attacks had stopped, he took a moment to breathe and glanced at the stunned people around him. 

“Anyone follows us, or tries to take her from me you’ll end up looking like him.” He pointed to the bleeding man on the bed, and everyone else shied away.

Sanji saluted, trying to ignore the throb in his side, and left the room.

When he moved into the hall, Sanji noticed that something was wrong. Guards were running in the direction of the great hall, and servants were speaking frantically to one another.

“What’s going on?” Sanji asked a young woman in a maid’s uniform.

“Someone is trying to leave the mountain!” she exclaimed. “Gage saw them break open the old gates, and now their ship is in the cove!”

Well, shit. 

“Well, that’s awful!” Sanji replied. “What are they going to do about it?”

“The King and the royal guard are going to get the backup!” 

Sanji’s stomach filled with dread. “What’s the backup?”

“No one can leave, so several years ago, a failsafe was installed. All the King has to do is unlock a panel and push the failsafe button, and the wing above the docks in demolished. The docking bay will cave in and that ship won’t be able to leave.”

Perfect, that was exactly what they needed. “Wow, um, you should probably get somewhere safe then.”

The maid looked at Sanji in shock for a moment, and then ran.

Sanji rolled his eyes. What the hell was he going to do now? What if the crew hadn’t all made it to _Sunny_ yet? Should he try and find them? Should he try and make it to the ship before the castle caved in? Should he—

A searing pain in his side made his breath catch and the cook doubled over. He almost dropped Nami, but he gathered her in his arms at the last moment.

“ _Shit…_ ” he moaned. He looked down at his shirt. The left side was soaked in blood, he had finally torn the incision completely. Now he was completely screwed. 

He tried to stand, but the pain he had ignored for the last two days was now unbearable. Nausea washed over him in a wave so powerful, he could feel himself starting to pass out. 

_No… no… I have to get Nami to the ship!_

The ground shook beneath Sanji’s feet, and a loud _boom_ erupted from somewhere below. The walls trembled and people screamed as vases and framed art and stone carvings fell to the floor and shattered.

_No! No, the ship! Luffy! Zoro!_

He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, the pain in his side was so overwhelming he felt tears in his eyes. Black started to creep into the sides of his vision. He pulled Nami tighter into his arms, unmindful of the blood that was running from his wound and soaking into the curtain that covered her body. He held the navigator tight, whispering softly as his head fell back against the stone.

“I’m sorry, Nami-san… I’m sorry…”

There was another explosion, this time closer, and Sanji had to twist to cover Nami as debris fell all around them.

“Sanji! Nami!”

Sanji’s eyes snapped open. That was Zoro’s voice! What was Zoro still doing in the castle?

“WHERE THE HELL IS MY COOK!!!”

Sanji chuckled at Luffy’s maniacal voice and had just enough strength left to turn his head and see his captain, first mate, and a large furry reindeer coming up the stairs towards him before be passed out.

* * * *

“Oh… oh, Sanji… how could you do this to yourself?” Chopper’s voice was watery as the little doctor inspected the cook’s wound. “He would have to have been in so much pain for so long! How do you guys manage this kind of crap!”

Zoro tried not to look because every time he glanced down a Sanji’s unconscious form his stomach started to do funny things. Sanji’s side looked horrible, bruised, bloody, and all kinds of yellow and white fluids were seeping out of the place where he had torn the stiches. What the hell had the stupid cook been doing? Didn’t he care what was happening to his body? Didn’t he understand that there were people who cared about him and worried about him? Didn’t he get that there were people who hurt when he hurt!? Stupid fucking cook!

Sanji’s blood soaked his shirt and the smell of it was strong on Zoro’ senses. The swordsman’s fingers dug into his biceps as he watched the water slide over the glass dome on the C.R.A.B. After they had found Sanji and Nami in the East wing, Luffy had scooped up the navigator and told Zoro to grab Sanji. With Chopper’s help, they had found their way back to the underwater entrance, and thankfully, their little ship had still been there. The Polluge King had detonated some kind of explosive, caving in the underground docking bay, but Franky had already set sail and the crew had been well away from the cove when it had happened. It turned out the C.R.A.B. had an autopilot set up to take it directly back to the ship, so all they had to do now was sit back and wait for the little ship to get them back to _Sunny_.

“Chopper,” Luffy’s voice was eerily quiet, “is Sanji going to be okay?”

Chopper sniffed. “Yeah, he’ll be fine… the infection looks a lot worse than it is. I just don’t understand how he popped so many stitches.”

Zoro glanced over at Nami who was asleep in the passenger seat. The navigator had on pretty much nothing underneath what looked like a bed sheet, so Zoro had a few pretty good ideas how the idiot cook could have hurt himself. 

He hoped the several of them weren’t true.

“Okay,” Chopper sniffed again, “I think that’ll do it. I have to remember to thank Franky for packing an extra medical kit in here.”

“Good job, Chopper.” Luffy’s voice was still quiet, and his hand was gentle as he touched Zoro’s shoulder. When the swordsman looked up at him, the young captain motioned with his head towards Sanji and Zoro understood.

Standing, Zoro stepped around Chopper and patted the little reindeer on the head. Chopper hugged his leg and turned tiredly to climb up into Luffy’s lap. 

“Luffy,” he said softly, “how long until we’re home?”

Luffy wrapped his arms around his doctor and murmured softly. “Go to sleep and it’ll seem like minutes.”

* * * *

The return ride to _Sunny_ was quiet. Zoro sat with his back resting against the cushioned bench, listening to the sounds of Luffy’s gentle snoring and the quiet hum of the engine. He had tried to sleep for a while, but too many thoughts were running though his head and he couldn’t settle himself. 

There were explanations for why he was feeling the way he was, but Zoro just couldn’t make himself linger on any of them for long. The answers were simple, but to admit to them, well, he wasn’t ready. He would never be ready. 

Zoro heard a soft noise from behind and he turned his head. The cook lay on the cushions, his head propped up by the one blanket they could find. He had been still for so long, but now he stirred. Was he waking up? Zoro sat frozen, didn’t breathe. He waited to see if Sanji’s eyes would open. They didn’t, but the cook’s thin body started to tremble. His breath shook softly. 

Forcing his body to move, Zoro slowly pulled himself to his feet. What was he going to do? There was only one blanket in on the ship and it was being used as a pillow. He didn’t even have a jacket or an extra shirt or anything to spread over…

Oh, wait.

As gently as he possibly could, Zoro pulled the blanket from under Sanji’s head, and ever so carefully, he moved to sit on the seat. He slid close, resting the cook’s head on his thigh. Blanket free, the swordsman unfolded the soft wool and threw it over Sanji’s body. He stilled then, waiting, hoping he hadn’t woken the other man. 

For a few long moments, Zoro sat unmoving. He watched the erratic rise and fall of Sanji’s chest; he felt the cook’s body shake against him. _Please don’t get sick again,_ he thought. _Please get warm. Please get better. I can’t do this again…_ Zoro’s heart beat slow but incredibly hard. Every thump against his ribs was like a fist pounding on the inside of his chest. 

_I can’t stand seeing you hurt…_

Sanji made a soft noise in the back of his throat, turning his head into Zoro’s haramaki. The swordsman’s breath halted. The cook’s hands came up and pulled the blanket to his chin. The furrow in the cook’s brow faded and he stopped shaking. His breathing slowed, evened out. His body relaxed fully. 

There was too much air in Zoro’s lungs. He let it out as silently as he could, surprised and embarrassed that he had been holding it for so long. The relief was so great he felt dizzy. He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, trying to get that terrible pounding of his heart under control.

_He’ll be okay… he’ll be fine. Chopper said he’ll be fine…_

Suddenly, everything was very clear. 

Zoro opened his eyes. He sat still and serene, watching the ocean fly over above them. He sat that way a long time, his thoughts coming together and his feelings finally manifesting into something recognizable. When he finally moved, when he looked down at Sanji’s sleeping face, he put an elbow on the back of the seat and rested his temple in his palm. He studied the cook’s curling eyebrows, the soft eyelids, and the long lashes that danced over the tops of pale cheeks, his nose, his strong jaw, the stubble across his chin, the small scratch on his bottom lip…

Zoro’s hand was halfway there before he realized he had been about to touch Sanji’s lips. No. No, he couldn’t do that, Sanji would be angry. His hair? Would Sanji be okay with him touching his hair? He just wanted to run his fingers over it. He just wanted to see what it felt like. Zoro had touched Sanji many times, fighting him, helping him wash dishes, carrying him when he was hurt, but he had never touched his hair before. 

His hand hovering, trembling slightly over blond that would no doubt be soft and silky, Zoro admitted something to himself. He might be able to pretend, he might be able to lie, to put on a mask for the others and go on as if nothing was different, but he never lied to himself. Never. 

He had fallen for Sanji, and he had fallen very, very hard.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that, other than lock it away. He had only felt this way once before, and that had been a long time ago. She had died and he had moved on with her dream and her memory. What was he supposed to do when the feelings he had were for someone that was alive? Someone that was with him? Someone he could just reach out and put his hands on?

Sanji made another soft noise and it startled Zoro out of his thoughts.

The swordsman looked down and almost gasped aloud when he saw that Sanji’s eyes were open.

“Sanji?” he said softly. 

Sanji said nothing. He lay there, staring off into some faraway place that Zoro couldn’t see. His eyes were so tired, so dark and alone that Zoro found himself sitting forward, aching to touch him. He restrained himself with everything he had from just sliding his fingers into Sanji’s hair, putting his arms around the cook’s thin body, pressing himself as close as he could.

“Sanji,” oh wow, was his voice shaking? “Sanji, are you okay? Do you want me to get Chopper?”

Sanji still didn’t move. He didn’t even shake his head.

“I’m fine, Zoro.”

He wasn’t fine, it was so obvious. The cook may not have been in pain, but he was hurting. It was written all over his face, brimming in his eyes. He lay there, still, his features slack, but Zoro knew Sanji was screaming inside. Zoro knew because he was doing the same thing at that exact moment.

“Sanji…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sanji whispered. “Just forget it… It doesn’t matter…”

It didn’t take much to understand what Sanji meant, not after finding him so broken and bleeding, but still desperately clinging to Nami like he was the only thing in the world left to protect her. Zoro tried not to hate the navigator at that moment, but it was hard. It was really, _really_ hard.

Zoro didn’t think, he just moved on instinct. He moved in response to the ache in his own heart. He laid a hand gently over Sanji’s eyes, and the cook let out a quiet breath beneath him. Zoro turned Sanji’s head away from him and he leaned down to speak into his friend’s ear. 

“Chemicals, toxins, and drugs… that’s what she was saying. You know it wasn’t her. She loves you. You know that. You _know that_.” 

Zoro’s voice caught and the swordsman took a moment to feel himself start to tense up, start to tremble. Every part of the body he trained so hard, and depended on so profoundly, was failing him. 

It was failing him because for the first time in a long, long time, Roronoa Zoro was truly frightened. Frightened of what Sanji was going to do, how he would react; for the inevitable rejection that was about to come. 

He felt weak, helpless like a child, but he pushed the words passed his unsure lips because he had to. 

“You know that you matter to Luffy, to this crew. You know you matter to Nami, even though she doesn’t like to show it… And you know you matter to me.” He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry.

“You _know_ you matter… to me.”

He willed it. He ached for Sanji to understand. He pleaded with forces that he didn’t believe in for Sanji to just get it. Zoro was his friend. The crew was his family. Whatever Nami had said back in the castle wasn’t real. Don’t believe it.

And then Sanji’s hand, cool and steady, slid over his. Sanji splayed his palm over the one Zoro held over his eyes. He curled his fingers around Zoro’s, calmed the trembling. Soothed the ache with just that simple touch. Zoro’s fear left him, trickled away like water in the minutes after the rain. Sanji may not feel the same way he did, and he probably never would, but he accepted Zoro’s comfort and returned it. It was far more than Zoro had hoped for. 

They said nothing after that. Sanji just held onto Zoro’s hand, and the swordsman closed his eyes and buried his face into blond hair that was indeed fantastically soft. When the C.R.A.B. reached _Sunny_ and the rest of the crew came hurling themselves into the little vessel, Zoro separated himself from Sanji so the cook could be taken inside and fussed over properly. The swordsman accepted hugs from Usopp and acknowledged Robin with a nod of his head, but then he slipped away quietly, snuck into the galley to steal a couple bottles of sake, and climbed up into the crow’s nest.

Later that evening, the sounds of celebration rose up from the deck below. The _Red Rose_ crew sang songs and danced as the Strawhats clapped and cheered. There was much call for celebration since they had all escaped from the Polluge with no casualties and they were finally on their way home. Zoro knew he should go down and be with his nakama, but he wanted no part in the merriment. 

After finishing off the last of the sake, Zoro lifted weights until sweat beaded heavily on his skin. He traded between the two heaviest sets for about an hour, but then stopped as he heard someone coming up the ladder.

He turned to tell whoever it was to go away, but he froze when he saw who it was.

“What the hell, cook? You enjoy popping stiches or something?”

Sanji smirked and unloaded four bottles of sake and a covered plate of something that smelled divine onto the floor before he pulled himself up. “I can just take these back if you want.”

Zoro felt his eyebrow twitch. “No, don’t do that.” He felt like should have helped the cook up, but then decided he had touched Sanji enough for one day.

Sanji moved across the crow’s nest to where Zoro was standing. He was dressed in sleeping pants and a sweatshirt, and he held a pillow under his arm. 

“Are you planning on sleeping here or something?” Zoro asked.

Sanji snorted. “No, I just wanted something to sit on.”

“Sit?”

“Yes,” the cook dropped the pillow on the floor and lowered himself gingerly down onto it. “I’m not gonna sit up here with you and play cards with all these new staples in my side without something under my ass.”

Zoro blinked. “Cards?”

“Okay, seriously?” Sanji growled. “Did you get dumber in the last couple hours or what? I brought you food ‘cause that’s my job, I brought you sake to thank you for coming back for me, and I brought cards because I don’t want to listen to another rendition of _Lady Love of Mine!_ Now, will you kindly get your dinner and your booze and sit the fuck down before you make this more awkward than it already is!?”

Zoro hesitated for only a moment or two before he obeyed. He sat and inhaled the grilled fish and potatoes with normal, good old red and yellow peppers Sanji had cooked and tried not to moan his pleasure too loudly. After cleaning the plate, he set it aside and downed half of the first bottle of sake.

Running the back of his hand over his mouth, Zoro murmured softly, “Thank you…”

Sanji scoffed. “Shut up and shuffle.” 

TBC


	11. Misunderstanding

Zoro was acting funny. Not in a wear-his-pants-backwards kind of way, but the changes in the swordsman that had been occurring over the last few days were peculiar. Instead of spending _most_ of his time alone or training, Zoro had started to avoid all contact with the crew and spend _all_ of his time alone or training. He came to meals, but he ate quickly and left immediately when finished. The difference was subtle but a few had noticed, even with the added excitement of having thirteen guests aboard. Chopper had asked Zoro earlier that morning if he felt all right, and Luffy had taken to asking where his first mate was at random intervals throughout the day.

Sanji sighed as he sliced chicken breasts into long, thin pieces. Lifting the cutting board, he slid the meat gently into the pan, and tossed it with oil and a few of the leftover dry spices. 

At first, Sanji had just assumed that the swordsman wanted time alone to make up for the training time he had lost in Mountain Zombie Land. But when the cook had gone to see Zoro up in the crow’s nest around lunchtime, he had found Zoro sitting, staring out one of the small windows. He had acknowledged Sanji, asking if lunch was ready, but his attitude had been very distant. He hadn’t even risen to Sanji’s jabs. 

Sanji had returned to the galley with a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was it him? Had he done something to make Zoro angry? 

It was humiliating for Sanji on several levels to admit that Zoro’s slight had hurt. They had been getting along so well, and now it was sort of moving back into the old routine where Zoro did his own thing and Sanji did his and their paths never crossed unless they absolutely had to. Of course, now this scenario was a lot less antagonistic than it had been in the past. 

Slicing the few tomatoes he had salvaged from the bins, Sanji added them to the chicken and started crushing garlic. Being lost in Zombie Colony for almost a week had severely depleted the fresh food stores aboard the _Sunny_. Meals for the last two days had been an interesting challenge. There was plenty of frozen meat and dry ingredients, but they were desperately in need of another island where Sanji could search for fresh fruits and greens. He had turned the rotten food into a fertilizer for Nami’s tangerines, but it had still been painful to see all those beautiful vegetables go into the ground and not in a salad or a soup. A bundle of carrots had survived, and a barrel of apples, but Sanji’s crew and the thirteen guests had made quick work of those on day one. 

The door to the galley opened and Sanji didn’t have to look to know who it was. He had memorized the patters of the hinge creaks as they sounded for each of his crewmembers, and this was his favorite creak of them all.

“Hello Nami-san~!” he sing-songed. “What brings you to my humble kitchen? Is there anything I can get for you?”

The click of her heels echoed through the space as she moved to stand beside him.

“It smells delicious,” she said. “What are you making?”

“Just chicken in red sauce, Nami-san. I have a few bags of noodles I’ll cook to pour it over.”

“Bread too?”

Sanji nodded. “Should be ready in about thirty minutes.”

Nami smiled up at him sweetly before she moved to sit at the table.

Another thing that had changed over the last few days was Sanji’s relationship with Nami. The first day had been hard. Nami wouldn’t look at him, and he was sure he was never going to be able to speak to her again without a lump forming in the back of his throat. But then, wonder of wonders, Nami had come into the galley late one night as Sanji was prepping for breakfast. She had sat at the table, in the exact spot she was sitting now, and stayed there for almost an hour. They hadn’t spoken, just existed in the same room—the same space—getting used to each other again.

Finally, when Sanji finished his work and washed his hands, he carefully went to the table and sat next to his navigator. He put his pack on the table and asked quietly if he could have one.

Nami nodded and, to his amazement, had taken one for herself. There were many things that Nami did on a regular basis that Sanji found incredibly attractive but sitting there watching her lips curl daintily around a cigarette had blown them all out of the water. 

“I need to thank you,” she had whispered.

Sanji had shaken his head at that. “No you do—”

“Please, Sanji-kun,” her voice was firm. He had shut his mouth then and quietly listened. 

He had never heard the whole story about what had happened to her when she had worked for Arlong. He hadn’t any idea of how horrible things had been for her, and what she told him hurt. She had sat in the galley with him that night and talked about everything, and when she finished, she looked up at him with eyes that might have been just a little misty. He told her about Zeff. The story just came spilling out. He told her about how he had been saved, how he had been raised and taught to cook, how they had been attacked, and his month on the island and how he had almost starved to death. When her cigarette had gone out halfway through his story, she had set it in the ash tray and slipped her fingers through his. 

They talked until well past midnight. Then he had walked her to her cabin, and they had embraced briefly before she had kissed him on the cheek and whispered “love you” softly into his ear. He stood for a long time outside the door, his hands in his pockets, and his heart lighter than it had been for a long time.

She had thanked him. She had trusted him with her story. She had listened to him. He had been so thankful and so unbelievable relieved, that he hadn’t noticed the wetness on his face.

He lay awake that night thinking about Nami and what this shift in his feelings meant. He still loved her, that much was certain, but what he had felt when she had kissed his cheek was not what he had always expected. There had been warmth and dull happiness that spread through his limbs but nothing magical. Nothing that moved him or repaired the empty space in his heart that he hadn’t even known was empty until getting a kiss from Nami hadn’t filled it. 

She had come every day since. They didn’t always talk, and Sanji never saw her smoke again, but her presence was welcome, and when they did talk Sanji felt he could talk to her about anything.

Well, almost anything. There were still some things he was a little uncomfortable even _thinking_ about.

“Have you noticed that Zoro’s been acting funny the last few days?” Nami asked.

Oh, well, speaking of uncomfortable things…

Sanji turned the heat down on the chicken and poured a large portion of noodles into a pot of boiling water. He added some vegetable oil and stood ready with a fork to separate them as they softened.

“Uh… not really,” he lied. “I don’t make it a point to observe the Marimo more than I have to. How much further do we have until we hit another island?”

“A few days,” Nami waved a hand dismissively. “And what do you mean you don’t know? I thought you guys were getting tight. What happened?”

Sanji shrugged as he dedicated himself to stirring the noodles. This was that one thing he didn’t feel comfortable talking about, even with this new and evolved friendship with his Nami-san. The topic of Zoro was tender and the cook wasn’t ready to sort out any complicated feelings he had about the situation.

“Nothing happened,” Sanji replied lamely. “We’re just back to the way we were, minus the wanting to tear each other’s throats out at every given opportunity.”

Sanji could practically hear Nami’s eyes rolling, but he continued to stir stubbornly.

“How can you not know what happened? How can you guys be best friends forever and then suddenly he’s off pouting in the crow’s nest at all hours like some spoiled princess?”

Sanji stopped stirring suddenly and glanced over his shoulder.

“Are you mad at him or something?” he asked. 

Nami shrugged. “Not really. It’s just he gave me this super death glare after lunch today and I didn’t even do anything.”

Returning to the noodles, Sanji signed softly. “What the hell, why you and not me?”

“What?”

Shaking his head, Sanji lifted the pot from the burner and poured the noodles into a colander to drain. As he sprinkled on a few drops of oil and a handful of finely grated cheese before starting to toss, he thought about just lying about everything to try and get Nami to change the subject. 

“You’re pretty upset about this.”

Sanji made a noise. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” she insisted. “You’re chewing the inside of your cheek. You only do that when you’re upset about something.”

Who was he kidding? She would absolutely know if he tried to lie. Besides, maybe it would feel better if he told someone about it?

He talked as he worked, pulling the bread from the oven and setting up the extra table for the guests. “I went to go see him right before lunch. Luffy was oh-so-subtly-but-not-so-subtly asking where he was so I thought I’d go talk to him, maybe pick a fight or something.”

“Yeah?” Nami leaned in, resting her elbows on the table.

Sanji shrugged. “Didn’t work, he was his old ass-hat self. One word responses and apathetic fucking attitude—sorry, pardon my language.”

“I don’t care, Sanji.”

“I know, but I still need to apologize.”

“Okay.”

Dishing up the food into two large serving containers, Sanji placed one in the middle of each table and threw a couple of baskets of fresh bread here and there. Table set, he pulled out a cigarette and moved to stand by the open window. 

“It’s like he was teasing me before,” he continued. “We get this friendship thing going and it’s one less stress for me, but now we’re not even _fighting_. I can’t get him to respond to _anything_.”

Nami’s eyes were wide as she rolled things around in her head. “So, he’s not mad at you.” 

Sanji shook his head. “Nope. He doesn’t even hate me now. I’m like completely not important.”

Nami sat for a minute, tapping her fingernails on the table. “But he’s mad at me.”

Sanji shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

A moment passed in silence as Nami though and Sanji finished his cigarette. Finally, as the cook snuffed out the cherry and threw the butt in the depository Franky had installed especially for him, Nami giggled softly into her hand.

“What?” Sanji muttered, heading towards the door to let the crews know food was ready.

“He probably likes you.”

It was Sanji’s turn to roll his eyes. “Right, that makes sense.”

Nami laughed again. “No! It does make sense! He fell in love with you back in Scary Mountain People Country and now he’s depressed and sad because he knows it will never work.”

Sanji slipped his hands into his pockets. “That doesn’t explain why he’s mad at you.”

“Yes it does!” Nami stood and stretched her arms over her head. “I’ve been spending a lot of time in here with you the last couple days. He’s _jealous_.”

Shaking his head, Sanji opened the galley door. “Are you drunk, Nami-san?”

Nami gave him a look. “Yes. I’m completely smashed.”

“Thought so. Let’s eat. We can discuss my _Romance_ with the stupid Marimo later.

HEY LOSERS! DINNER’S READY!”

Chaos erupted, but that was normal aboard the _Sunny_. Sanji dealt with it like he always did: with second, third, and fourth helpings, full glasses, and several kicks to the head of certain captains. He ignored the green-haired idiot across the table, and focused on doing what he was good at.

He would deal with the butterflies in his stomach later.

* * * *

The sun had set hours ago but Zoro was still up in the crow’s nest. He brought Wadō’s blade around hard, stopping just before hitting a find thread that hung from a hook. His arms burned from exhaustion and sweat ran down his temples. This was excellent muscle training: precision halts. The strength and control you had to have to keep momentum up until the last possible moment took years of dedication and practice. If Zoro swung too fast or too hard, the blade would cut through the thread like it was air. If he swung without conviction, the blow was too slow. 

He had been at this since dinner, up here in the crow’s nest, trying to train the feelings that churned in his chest and in his gut right out of his body. He knew it was probably no use, but he wasn’t going to just give up either. Giving up wasn’t an option. It was never an option.

Zoro knew that distancing himself from the crew was a bad idea, but he would keep doing it until they stopped him. Eventually they were going to have some kind of intervention and Chopper was going to insist on giving him some kind of exam. Luffy was going to give him one of those looks that made Zoro feel young and stupid. And Sanji…

Sanji was going to give him that same fucking look he had given him during dinner. That betrayed, confused look that had made Zoro feel all kinds of shitty. Damn cook probably hadn’t even noticed he was doing it, and that was the worst part.

And then, what the hell was with Nami staring at him over her plate with that evil smirk pulling at her lips? What the hell was she thinking, and why was whatever it was so much funnier when she was looking at _him_? God damnit she pissed him off! Why did she have to be such a fucking evil bitch all the time? Shit, he hated her so much! 

Zoro’s swing faltered and the bottom half of the thread fluttered to the ground. The swordsman straightened and rested Wadō’s flat end on his shoulder. He ran a hand over his brow and took a long, deep breath.

Okay, calm down. He didn’t hate Nami. He had never hated Nami. She was nakama, and a good navigator, and actually a fairly decent person when she wasn’t trying to rob you blind.

No, Nami had fueled the fire, but she wasn’t the problem. Zoro knew what the problem was, and he knew the only way he was going to get through it was time, and a lot of discipline. But that was fine, he was good at discipline. 

Placing Wadō carefully back in her saya, Zoro turned and dropped to the floor to start a regiment of push-ups. 

He would do them until he passed out.

* * * *

Sanji pushed the last of the bacon into the fridge to thaw for breakfast. As he stood, the cook reached up with one arm and stretched his side. After a few seconds he switched and pulled at the other. He was tired, it was late, be he was hesitant to head to bed because he knew he would not sleep. No matter how tired he felt, it wouldn’t stop the things that were dancing around in his head.

Nami’s words earlier had struck a chord. Sanji knew that what she had suggested wasn’t possible, but it had gotten Sanji thinking. What if Zoro was indeed jealous? What if he was hurt that Sanji and Nami were spending so much time together?

_What if Zoro loved Nami?_

This was definitely a possibility. This made more sense than anything. The timing was perfect. Zoro had been acting strange since they had returned from the mountain. He had no doubt seen her in the state that Sanji had last seen her: practically naked, wrapped in a curtain, and probably covered in Sanji’s own blood. It really doesn’t matter how stoic a guy is, when he sees someone he cares about looking like that, it’s bound to do something to you. Then Zoro’s attitude had gone from bad to worse when Nami had started coming to the galley late at night. Every night. He had even glared at her from across the table through most of dinner. If Sanji’s theory was true, then it also made sense why Zoro was distancing himself from Sanji as well. 

Pulling a cigarette from his pack, Sanji left the galley and moved out onto the deck. He lit up and leaned against the railing, watching the waves lap against the side of the _Sunny_ in the moonlight. The cook inhaled slowly and slipped his hands into his pockets.

Sanji wondered if this was indeed what was happening, it must have been going on for some time. Perhaps this was why he and Zoro could never get along before? Maybe this was why their rivalry had been so intense and sometimes hateful in the past. It didn’t explain why Zoro had been friendly to him over the last month or two, but really, how was he supposed to understand everything that went on inside that moss-brain’s head?

Shifting his stance, Sanji turned around and sat on the railing. This didn’t need to go on, he should just go tell Zoro what was what. He had no intentions with Nami, not anymore. And he was relatively sure that he never truly had. If Zoro wanted to try something with Nami, Sanji needed to tell the swordsman that he wouldn’t get in his way. He could be with Nami if she would have him.

Taking a breath, Sanji crushed his cigarette between his fingers and slid off the rail. When his shoes hit the deck, he started towards the boy’s quarters.

But then his determination faltered.

His steps slowed, and his hands instinctively went to his jacket to search for the pack he had left in the galley.

He swallowed thickly and did a quick sort of half turn and walked a few steps back in the direction he had come. 

“Shit…” he whispered.

Oh hell, what was wrong with him? Why was he feeling like this all of a sudden? One moment he had been on his way to talk to Zoro and fix what was happening between them. He was going to tell the stupid Marimo that he was free to pursue whomever he wanted and Sanji wasn’t going to stop him.

But then, _oh God_ , Sanji had started to think about that moment back inside the mountain when Zoro had looked up at him from the sandy floor of the beach. Sanji had stood on that rock and felt something he had never felt before in his life. That something had been so profound and so powerful, so completely _unbelievable_ that he hadn’t thought about what it might mean until this very moment—

“No.” Sanji huffed and turned back around. “No. That is not happening. Ever.”

Switching his focus back to the task at hand, Sanji turned back around and headed towards the boy’s quarters and promptly shoved everything he wasn’t supposed to be thinking out of his head.

When he opened the door to the cabin, he found most of the crew already asleep. Only Franky and Usopp were sitting at the table, a deck of cards strewn about between them.

“What’s up, bro?” Franky waved, his voice quiet.

Sanji acknowledged his crewmates with a nod of his head, and turned towards the first mate’s hanging bunk.

He was only slightly surprised to find it empty.

“He’s still up in the crow’s nest.” Usopp said over his shoulder.

Sanji gently pulled the covers over Chopper’s soring form and saluted Usopp as he left the cabin.

“Thanks, Usopp.”

Heart pounding and palms slightly damp, Sanji moved out onto the main deck and started to climb the rigging to the crow’s nest.

* * * *

Zoro lowered his chest to the floor and his muscles sang in a perfect harmony of pain and fatigue. Sweat poured from his brow and dripped from his chin and the tip of his nose. He had lost count of how many times he had pushed. After his adrenaline had run out, he had forgotten about keeping score and had just tried to numb his mind with the agony that moved slowly through his arms and shoulders. His abdominal muscles were so tight he knew his lungs were probably going to seize before he actually passed out. 

No doubt this had been a bad idea in another long string of bad ideas and actions that he had made in the last few days. Fuck. Well, he would work through pulled muscles. He had done it before.

He heard the latch on the door, and the creak of the hinges. It was probably Chopper come to tell him to get some sleep.

“Hey, Marimo.”

Shit.

* * * *

Sanji opened the door to the crow’s nest and climbed into the dimly-lit space. A single lantern burned on the floor next to him. Shadows played across the walls giving the small gym a very eerie atmosphere.

The air was thick and smelled of sweat and alcohol, but that was nothing new. The darkness was a little unsettling, but Sanji new that this was still the same crow’s nest he visited every day. It was still the Marimo’s special place. 

And speaking of the Marimo, Sanji spotted him then on the opposite side of the room, shrouded in the darkest parts of the shadows. He was doing pushups. Slow, shaky, pushups. Sanji had never seen the swordsman move like that. Even drunk, Zoro was still fast and precise.

“Hey, Marimo.”

Zoro faltered. Stopped. He held his low position for a few seconds before he groaned and knocked his forehead on the floor. Pushing up once more, he tossed his body to the side and rolled onto his back. He was out of breath, his chest was heaving. He put an arm over his eyes and spoke in a voice that Sanji almost didn’t recognize.

“What.”

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe he was _really_ drunk. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe he was making up for something he had thought he had done. Maybe Zoro was mad, but he wasn’t mad at Sanji, or Nami, or anyone. Maybe he was mad at himself? Maybe he wasn’t mad at all? 

Sanji tried very hard not to think about how this looked like Zoro was unhappy, and possibly lonely, and how he should have come and talked to Zoro from the beginning. He should have come even if the stupid swordsman had ignored him and acted like a first-class douche bag. 

Sanji was a shitty friend. All he had been thinking about was himself. He had been thinking about what _he_ had done to make Zoro mad. How it was probably _his_ fault? What could _he_ do?

“What do you want, cook?” Zoro’s voice still sounded fatigued, but now it had an edge.

“I’m just here to talk, man,” Sanji said. “We gotta clear this thing up.”

Zoro snorted. “What thing?”

Sanji slipped his hands into his pockets. “This thing between us.”

Zoro laughed without any humor and rolled to his side. He pushed himself to a sitting position and slowly got to his feet. “There’s no _thing_ between us.”

Watching Zoro grab a towel from a bench and turn to ignore him again, Sanji’s pulse quickened. He had resolved to not let Zoro push his buttons, but Zoro was probably better at that than he was at swordsmanship.

“Look, asshole. I came—”

“I don’t care why you came up here,” Zoro growled. “Just leave. I can’t… deal with you right now.”

Sanji’s thumping pulse started to thump harder. The blood pushed through his heart and his veins slowly but thickly, almost painfully. He watched Zoro’s back as an unbelievable wave of hurt and anger welled up inside him so powerful he wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and break things and kick Zoro clear out into the open ocean.

But he kept his calm. He took a breath. Let it out slowly.

Fine. Zoro wanted to play that way? Then he would play.

Sanji turned and hooked his food underneath the lowest barbell on the rack. He lifted it, pointing his toes to let the weight roll gently to the floor. He lined himself up, hooked his toes again, and took aim. 

Zoro turned just in time to catch the weight as it came hurling across the crow’s nest toward him. It was inches from his face when his palms came up and he gripped the bar in shaking hands.

“Fuck you, cook. I’m done for the night. I worked myself to muscle failure.”

Sanji sneered. “But that’s when your game’s the best, isn’t it? Right before you’re about to die?”

Zoro didn’t argue. He couldn’t. They both knew what Sanji had said was true. Instead, the swordsman lowered his stance and tossed the weight back in Sanji’s direction. The cook stopped it easily with his foot, the force being nothing compared to how Zoro usually attacked him. Maybe he really was burnt out.

“Just say your piece and get the hell out of my face.” Zoro ran a hand over his brow.

Sanji hooked another weight, a heavier one, and sent it flying. Zoro caught it and dropped it on the ground at his feet. He readied himself for another.

“I know what’s wrong,” Sanji started.

“You have no idea what’s wrong,” Zoro countered, blocking another weight and disposing that on the ground with the last one. 

“Yes I do,” Sanji’s tone was cool, relaxed. Fighting with Zoro was one thing, but riling him up with angry words and shouting, was another. He needed to be delicate. Well, the Zoro version of delicate anyway.

He readied another weight. “I know you’re jealous, but it’s okay.”

Satisfaction rolled through the cook as Zoro’s eye widened. The swordsman’s arms lowered slightly as he reeled from some immeasurable shock.

“What?”

He barely caught the weight Sanji hurled at him that time.

“Wait, Sanji, what are you talking about?”

Sanji had run out of the bars, so he moved to the pile of metal additions. These were heavier than the barbells but it made no difference to Sanji’s strong legs.

“I know you’re jealous because of my late night hangouts with Nami. You don’t have to be though, there’s nothing going on.”

The metal weight he tossed slammed into Zoro with a loud _thunk_. The swordsman held it in his shaking hands, his face going from shocked, to confused, to angry.

Very, very angry.

“What the hell are you saying?” Zoro hissed.

Sanji slammed his foot down, sending three small metal weights into the air. He kicked them all in succession, one after the other. “I’m saying that you don’t… have to be… jealous… of me.”

Zoro caught the weights and immediately dropped them to the floor. He was red in the face, his teeth bared. Not something Sanji was expecting exactly, but it wasn’t a complete surprise either. He also took into account that Zoro was indeed getting slower by the second. The fatigue in his arms and shoulders was probably past unbearable. 

“Don’t get mad, Marimo. I wanted to come and tell you that I won’t stand in your way if you want to make a move on Nami.”

Breathing hard, sweat dripping from his chin, Zoro changed his stance. His eyes started to flash deadly black. His anger, which Sanji could see was now quickly turning into rage, was boiling to the surface. His body was trembling, his hands were clenching into fists so hard Sanji could hear his knuckles creak.

Sanji faltered. Why was Zoro so mad? Was it so embarrassing to be found out? Sanji hadn’t expected this reaction at all. This was pretty much the complete opposite of what Sanji thought Zoro was going to do. The swordsman was usually so put to together. What the hell was going on? 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Zoro’s voice was deep and low. Sanji recognized it from the battles they had fought together. He had never expected his nakama to speak to him like that.

“Why would I be kidding, Zoro?”

The cook almost backed away. If looks could kill, Sanji was sure he would be dead right now and on his way to hell. Zoro’s eyes were like a demon’s, black as the bottom of the ocean and angry as a titan. 

“I’m not in love with Nami, you idiot!” The swordsman took a few breaths, his chest expanding and compacting as he seemed to try and pull his thoughts together. “I don’t… I can’t… That’s not what’s happening! Why can’t you just fucking _get it!_ ”

In a rage, Zoro picked up two barbells and threw them at Sanji with the force the cook had been expecting from the beginning. Startled, Sanji retaliated, dropping to his hands and swiveling his body around. His legs flew into the air and kicked the weights back towards Zoro at lightning speed.

Zoro either didn’t expect it, or he was too angry and too fatigued to react quickly enough. He deflected the first weight, but his body was turned as the second flew at him. He couldn’t block in time and the metal bar hit him in the side. He grunted, took a step backwards, and then let out a long, shaky breath.

“Oh…” Sanji mouthed. “Zoro, I’m sorry.” He moved across the crow’s nest and reached out to help the swordsman, but Zoro moved away.

“Don’t touch me.” 

He was swaying, and Sanji’s heart was back to racing. Shit, what had he done? Had he really hurt Zoro? Was that even possible?

“Zoro?” Sanji murmured.

Zoro blinked at him, clutching his side. The anger drained from his face and he looked confused for a moment.

“I uh… I think I’m finally gonna to pass out.”

He did, but Sanji caught him.

* * * *

Sanji leaned against the wall in the infirmary, watching Chopper poke and prod a very grumpy, but recovering swordsman. It turned out there was nothing wrong with Zoro besides some minor dehydration, and the two broken ribs Sanji had inflicted on accident. Well, sort of accident.

“…but don’t ever do this sort of thing again without at least taking a bottle of water up into the crow’s nest, okay!” Chopper growled. “I don’t care if you want to train yourself into the ground, but when you train, you sweat! When you sweat, you lose water! Dehydration is not something you can take lightly! It can kill you! Zoro! Are you even listening!?”

The swordsman rubbed at his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Chopper, I hear you.”

Exasperated, and obviously sleepy, the little reindeer turned to Sanji with pleading eyes.

“Sanji, can you please make sure that Zoro sits here until the IV bag is empty? I’ll come back in an hour and check on him.”

Sanji ground his teeth on an unlit cigarette. He was this close to straightening and growling about how, no, he wasn’t going to sit here with the stupid swordsman. The idiot could get up and leave and die of dehydration for all he cared! Nami stepped in however, and answered for him.

“I’m sure Zoro will be fine, Chopper. Sanji will make sure of it.” She reached out a hand to the doctor and motioned with her head towards the door. “Here, I’ll walk you back to the boy’s cabin.”

Chopper nodded and let the navigator lead him out of the infirmary. He mumbled a few last instructions to Sanji and shot Zoro a warning glare before Nami closed the door behind them.

The silence stretched between the two men for a few long minutes. Sanji chewed on the cigarette but didn’t light up. Chopper had made it explicitly clear that this was the one place on the ship that Sanji was not allowed to smoke ever.

Zoro sat in silence, one arm resting straight with the IV catheter taped down on the side of his wrist. The other arm was on the desk, his hand on the opposite shoulder. He lowered his head, putting his cheek to his forearm. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, quiet.

“You can go to bed, cook. I’m not going anywhere until the bag’s empty.”

Sanji huffed and unfolded his arms from over his chest. He slipped his hands into his pockets and tapped the heel of his shoe on the ground. 

“I think I’ll stay.”

Zoro closed his eyes, “Whatever.”

Annoyed, Sanji moved across the room and sat on the bed. He lifted one ankle to the opposite knee and laced his fingers together.

Zoro peered at him from underneath heavy lids. “What?”

Sanji met Zoro’s gaze and held it. “We’re gonna finish our talk now.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No,” Zoro straightened, “we’re done talking about shit. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“How can you even say that?” Sanji unfolded his hands and spread them. “You’re hiding up in the crow’s nest all day every day! You won’t talk to anybody, and now you’re training yourself into passing out? Not everyone has noticed there’s something wrong, but you can be damn sure everyone will know tomorrow!”

Shaking his head, Zoro leaned back against the wall. He moved his arms like he was going to cross them over his chest, but then remembered the needle in his arm. He looked frustrated for a moment, but then he placed his arm back on the desk carefully.

“I don’t see how what’s going on with me is anyone else’s business.”

Placing both feet on the deck, Sanji leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Zoro, don’t be stupid. This crew cares about you. I care about you. If something’s wrong, we want to know so we can help. What if we get attacked and whatever’s bothering you distracts you and you get—”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know that?” Sanji growled, exasperated.

Zoro’s jaw clenched. “I know.”

Running a hand through his hair, Sanji tried to keep his anger in check. “This is stupid—you’re stupid. I don’t understand why you’d just cut everybody off like this. I thought that we were finally cool with each other, you know? Like I thought we were friends, but obviously—”

“—We are friends—”

“—you don’t think that…” 

Sanji trailed off, unsure if what he had just heard had been real.

“W… what?” he stammered.

Zoro looked at him with tired eyes; eyes that were completely void of his earlier anger.

“You’re… probably my best friend…”

Well shit. Now Sanji had no idea what to say. All the things that he had been about to rant and rave about just piled up in his throat like bile. He swallowed them thickly, embarrassed that he had gotten so angry over something he probably didn’t understand at all.

“Oh… um… really?”

Zoro nodded.

That was… wow, how exactly did that make him feel? Good? Yeah, definitely good. It made Sanji feel _very_ good to know that Zoro thought so highly of him. Something moved in the cook’s chest, something tightened and relaxed all at the same time. His stomach did a quick flip-flop and the tips of his fingers and toes tingled lightly. He was happy, almost giddy.

But now, he was also even more confused. He shook his head. “So… why all this? What was that up in the crow’s nest? Why won’t you talk to me?”

Zoro rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not gonna sit here and talk about shit that can’t be fixed like some woman.”

Sanji pointed a finger at the swordsman. “That’s fucking stupid. And sexist. You say we’re best friends, so we should be able to talk about whatever. I don’t care how manly it isn’t.”

Zoro shook his head again. “No. I’m not doing this.” He closed his eyes again and rested his head against the wall. He mumbled softly to himself, but Sanji’s sharp ears picked it up. 

“You’re an idiot. You don’t understand what would happen. You don’t get it.” 

Sanji shook his head. “Yeah, about that, what you said earlier. What exactly is this thing you wish I’d just ‘get’?”

To Sanji’s surprise, Zoro opened his eyes and looked right at him. He seemed startled. 

And then his cheeks flared red. 

It was a reaction the cook had only seen one other time, and even in the middle of all this misunderstanding and annoyance and convoluted, complicated feelings, it still managed to set Sanji’s heart fluttering. Zoro was very attractive when he was like this, or at least—okay, maybe not _attractive_ , but definitely appealing. Zoro was very _appealing_ when he was blushing at the things Sanji said to him.

He ached to know what Zoro was thinking at that moment.

“Zoro…” he said quietly.

The swordsman shook his head and looked away. “That was… just forget that. I was just pissed off. I shouldn’t have said it, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Bull shit.”

“Stop being an asshole.”

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Why the hell not?”

“ _Because I don’t want shit to change!_ ”

Sanji was startled, and not because of Zoro’s outburst. What did he think was going to change? What the hell could he possibly be talking about?

Zoro took a breath, turned his head and fixed his gaze on the wall. The blush was dark across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose as he stared at nothing. Suddenly, his eyes were sad. Far away. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely that of a whisper.

“I like things the way they are. The last few days I’ve just been trying to get my head straight. I’ve been trying to train myself into not… feeling stupid things I don’t have time to be feeling.”

Sanji swallowed. His stomach had gone from gently flip-flopping, to tying itself into knots. There was really only one thing Zoro could be talking about. But that was impossible. It was impossible, right?

Right?

They sat for another immeasurable amount of time before Zoro turned and looked at the IV bag. He growled about it being empty and started to pull roughly at the tape on his arm. Sanji couldn’t move for a moment, but after watching the swordsman pull at the catheter, and seeing the small trickle of blood running down Zoro’s arm, the cook jumped up and stopped his friend.

“Stop stop stop. Lemme do it.”

The swordsman stood, trying to escape from Sanji’s hands. “No, I’m fine.”

“Zoro…”

Finding that same spot on the wall to stare at, Zoro relented and let Sanji take his arm. The cook held the tube and gently pulled the tape from the catheter. After removing the bore, he took a cotton swab from Chopper’s jar and paced it over the puncture. 

As he held the cotton there with his palm, Sanji looked up into Zoro’s face. The swordsman was trembling, shaking ever so slightly under his touch. It was amazing and unbelievable and enough for Sanji to be fairly certain of what exactly was happening. He slid his thumb over Zoro’s skin and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath, and a shuddering exhale. 

“Zoro… it’s me, isn’t it?”

Maybe it was because Sanji had asked him directly. Or maybe it was just because Zoro was anything but a coward. Whatever the reason, the swordsman turned and looked Sanji in the eyes. He clenched his jaw and stood a little straighter.

“Yes…”

They stood that way for a moment. One long moment that could have lasted years for all they knew. Time and space and dreams and reality ceased to exist as Zoro watched Sanji carefully, and Sanji tried to look as deeply as he could into Zoro’s eyes. 

But then that moment was gone, and Zoro was tugging his arm out of Sanji’s grasp.

“I should go…” he said, and pushed past Sanji to escape back to the crow’s nest.

“Wait, Zoro—”

The door slammed.

Sanji looked down at his palm. At the small cotton swab and the tiny spot of bright red blood.

“Zoro…” he said quietly in the empty space.

“It’s okay…”

TBC


	12. Then and Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last everyone! Omg I'm so glad this is almost finished! Hopefully I get get it written and posted in the next couple of weeks!

It took almost fifteen minutes for Sanji to make himself leave the infirmary. At first he couldn’t get the majority of his body move. He stood for a long time with his hands limp at his sides, then on his hips, in his pockets, and then back to his hips. He paced the small area, unsure of what he should do. What _could_ he do? 

Zoro had just admitted to having feelings for him. This wasn’t something he could just charge into, head first and feet flying. Sanji knew he had to be extremely cautious. He had to think this through and choose his words carefully. Knowing Zoro, these feelings were no doubt far from trivial. Zoro was serious about everything he did and he would never put himself through what he was putting himself through now if he wasn’t sure, deeply sure, of what he felt. Sanji knew the least he could do, the _only_ thing he could do, was show consideration for the gravity of the situation. 

Running a hand over his mouth, Sanji took a slow breath. This explained so much about Zoro’s behavior recently, not to mention their relationship and its oscillation. It explained the strange connection he had been experiencing, those moments where he would catch Zoro looking at him, or when their eyes would meet and there was just something, _something_ inexplicable, something _amazing_ that was unidentifiable but undeniably _there_. 

Then, it hit him, a realization that slammed into Sanji so hard that it almost knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

Zoro had been avoiding everyone because he was trying to get over it. When Sanji had come up, Zoro had probably been in the middle of trying to _train those feelings away._

Sanji’s stomach tightened. That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. He needed to move. He needed to get to Zoro and let him know that it was fine. He didn’t have to do pushups until he lost consciousness. He didn’t have to hide in the crow’s nest all day just to stay away from stupid cooks that couldn’t see what was happening right in front of them.

Finally, Sanji got his feet to carry him out of the infirmary and across the deck. He reached the main mast in a few long strides and grabbed the rope ladder.

But then Sanji faltered.

The rope slid out of his hands.

Wait. What did this mean? Was he okay with this? Was he really okay with Zoro being attracted to him? If he climbed this ladder and told Zoro that he was all right with Zoro’s feelings wasn’t that kind of like he was accepting them? 

Holy shit, _was he accepting them?_

Frozen once again, Sanji curled his fingers into his palms, straightened them out, and curled them again. He couldn’t wait; he needed to talk to Zoro. He couldn’t leave the swordsman alone now. He couldn’t let Zoro walk away and think that he was the only one… Shit, what was he even thinking? 

Damnit, this was actually happening.

If Sanji accepted everything that Zoro was offering, if he crossed that line, there would be no turning back. If he was going to climb this ladder and take this first step, he had better be ready because it was going to become a thing. It would cease to be just an idea or an intangible fancy and would become something that was right there, right there where it could be seen and touched.

Sanji hesitation dragged on. A minute turned into two, two into four. 

Could he do this? 

Then a memory rose to the forefront of Sanji’s mind. He remembered the look on Zoro’s face when the cook had first shown him the little green fruit. That silly, seemingly insignificant thing had finally mended whatever had been holding the ship’s first mate and cook back from becoming friends. That crazy mutant fruit had saved them. Sanji remembered the way Zoro had looked at him when he had asked for the pie. The way his dark eyes had lit up like Sanji had only seen when the swordsman was fighting.

Sanji climbed the ladder.

He didn’t know how he knew that Zoro had gone back to the crow’s nest, but Sanji was sure the swordsman would be there and not in the boy’s cabin or out on the deck. It was just a feeling he had, a strange kind of sixth sense that had developed after knowing and being around Zoro for so many months. Sanji had a feel for the habits of the entire crew, but it was different with Zoro, easier. It was possibly due to the fact that they were the same age but Sanji had never lingered on the phenomenon long enough to achieve any sort of enlightenment in that regard.

The space was darker then when Sanji had come up earlier. The lamp Zoro had left on the floor was out and the moon was only bright enough to make the vaguest of shapes detectable. However, even with the absence of light, Sanji easily found Zoro’s outline sitting on the bench in front of the largest window. The air was calm, no palpable tension that Sanji could discern, so the cook pulled himself up through the trap door and closed it behind him. He crossed the wooden planks and stood a little to Zoro’s left, his hands in his pockets.

“Can I sit?” he asked.

Zoro was quiet for a moment before he answered, “Sure.” His voice was soft and sounded neither angry nor sorrowful.

Sanji moved closer and lowered himself to the bench. He settled back against the wooden paneling and took a long, deep breath to try and calm his racing heartbeat. There wasn’t any reason for him to be nervous, that was ridiculous, but damnit all if his body wasn’t a jumble of twitching muscles and anxious limbs. He kept his hands in his pocket and fingered his lighter slowly.

“You don’t have to hide from me, you know...”

Zoro didn’t move and he said nothing. Strange. Sanji had chosen his words in an attempt to get a rise out of the swordsman. At least something like that would be familiar ground but Zoro’s unresponsiveness meant he wasn’t going to bite, so Sanji knew he was going to have to change tactics.

Pulling his pack from his pocket, Sanji withdrew a cigarette and tapped it on the back of his hand. 

This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Mind if I smoke?”

Zoro rested his head on the window sill. The moon illuminated his features and sent gentle shadows from his eyelashes across his rough cheeks. 

“It’s fine.”

Sanji stood and opened the window. The breeze was cool compared to the air inside the gym and Sanji breathed it in gratefully as he sat back down and lit up. He slipped the lighter and the pack back into his pockets and rolled the stick between his lips. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Zoro still didn’t move. “Which part?”

“The stuff I said about you and Nami.” 

Zoro’s shoulders raised and lowered slowly. “You didn’t know.”

“Yeah but,” Sanji paused to inhale and slowly blow a stream of smoke over his shoulder. “Still…”

What he wanted to say should have been easy, he could feel it, hear it in his head, but when Sanji tried to put it into words his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. The fire he had felt in his gut when he had left the infirmary had dwindled to a small, dying flame.

Rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, Sanji let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “Shit… I had such conviction when I climbed up here, but now it’s just fucking gone.”

Zoro took a breath and shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t have to. I really wanted to avoid this particular conversation anyway.”

Sanji looked at him, “This conversation?”

Zoro was quiet for another moment before speaking, “Yeah, the one where you let me down easy. I knew you’d do it that way. I thought there was a chance you’d get pissed and start a fight, but I didn’t really believe it. You’re pretty soft about this kind of stuff.”

Sanji held back the comment about how he was never soft about anything unless it involved women. He wasn’t soft at all, ever. He just realized the delicacy of the situation. Zoro might be about as tough as anyone could ever be, but there were some things that were impossible to just brush off. 

“Zoro,” Sanji started, “this is gonna be weird and hard to understand, but—”

“—Wait.”

Sanji stopped, “What?”

Zoro turned to look at him and his eyes were darker than the cook had ever seen them, deeper than he had ever thought possible. They were so glassy and so tight with regret and want that it took Sanji’s breath away.

“Can I ask you something first?”

Sanji nodded slowly, unable to speak.

Zoro swallowed. “Why do you watch the sunset like you do, and not the sunrise?”

Mouth suddenly dry, Sanji tried to swallow. His throat had closed up and it took him three tries before he could get a sound past his lips.

“W…what?” How did Zoro know about that? How—when—had he noticed? Sanji didn’t even think he did it that often.

Zoro shifted again turning his body towards Sanji’s and resting against the sill. “You don’t care about the sunrise. Sometimes you’ll smoke in the mornings and not even glance at it, or you’ll be in the galley and miss it completely. But the sunset, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, you’ll at least turn to look for a few seconds. I’ve seen you so hypnotized by a sunset that you forgot you were smoking and the thing burned down to a stub between your fingers.”

The mention of the cigarette made Sanji look down at the one in his hand at that moment. It burned brightly in his shadow, the ash smoldering and falling to the floor at his feet.

“That’s uh…” he muttered.

He must have taken too long to answer because Zoro spoke again.

“You don’t have to answer, I was just wondering.”

Sanji shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“Bet it’s not.” Zoro’s voice was quiet. He almost sounded amused.

Well, fuck it. Whatever.

Sanji took a deep drag and mimicked Zoro’s posture, turning to face the other man. He didn’t speak at first, but when he found his voice, it was quiet, forlorn. 

“I almost starved to death when I was a kid. I was stuck on an island, nothing around for hundreds of miles. I was there for over a month with not much more than a chunk of bread.” Sanji paused hesitant to speak about something he had never voiced to anyone before, not even Nami.

“There wasn’t much to do every day but sit around and think about dying. I was sure it was going to happen at night. I thought my body would give up while I was asleep and wasn’t actively fighting to stay alive. Kind of like it would get caught off guard or something. Anyway, every evening when I sat there, watching the sunset, I treated it like the last time. I would take in every second of it; savor every last moment of light. I knew I was going to die in the dark, but I wanted the last thing I saw to be the sun reflecting off the ocean.”

He swallowed, letting his words hang in the air. Zoro was still as stone, his face still turned towards Sanji.

“What about the sunrise?” Zoro whispered. “Wasn’t that something you could look forward to?”

Sanji shook his head. “The sunrise meant that there was another day to wait through. Another day I was going to have to sit there and watch and pray and feel my body eating away at itself and then be devastated when no ships came to rescue me and I had to watch the sun leave me again and the ocean would disappear.” He said it all in one breath, one long string of words that ran together in his attempt to get them out and said and done with. He didn’t want to say them. He didn’t want to remember those awful days and the shame of wanting to die almost as much as he wanted to live. 

After a long silence Sanji realized that Zoro was holding his breath. The cook puffed on the cigarette, pulling the ash down to the filter in one breath. He shouldn’t have told Zoro; he should have just made something up. He could have fabricated some kind of cool story involving a girl, then Zoro wouldn’t think he was weak and pathetic, no better than when he was a kid. 

As embarrassment washed over him, Sanji crushed the butt out on the bench and turned away. He leaned back and slid low, slouching so he could shove his hands deep into his pockets. 

“I told you,” he growled, “It’s stupid.” 

At least now they were on a more even level. Zoro had confessed to feelings that were no doubt humiliating, putting him in a position of severe vulnerability, something Sanji was sure the swordsman was not used to. However, even though that matter was foremost in their minds at the moment, Sanji now felt raw and defenseless after his own confession. Now he _really_ didn’t know what to say. Any sort of speech he had planned had escaped him and was now secondary to his shame. 

God damnit. If this was anything like what Zoro was feeling, this was the worst kind of situation. How had they come to this? How were they ever going to fix it?

Zoro’s voice was so sudden and so unexpected that it startled Sanji. 

“You survived on an island with no food or water… for over a month?”

It was Sanji’s turn to shrug. “I had a little. A bundle of scraps…”

He didn’t look at Zoro. He didn’t want to see the swordsman’s face. If there was judgment there it would kill him, and if there was pity, that would be even worse.

“That’s…” Zoro said softly. “I don’t think I could do that…”

Sanji felt the world drop out from under him. The crow’s nest, the ship, the ocean, everything disappeared as Zoro’s words hung in the air between them. Sanji’s head snapped to the side so quickly he might have cracked his neck. It felt like his breath caught and his lungs filled at the same time as he met Zoro’s eyes once again. When he looked back into those pools of polished stone Sanji knew that what Zoro had said meant so much more than mere surprise. There had been awe in his voice, a genuine admiration in his tone. 

Zoro did not think Sanji was weak at all. 

Suddenly, everything was easy again. The words that Sanji had planned, that he had agonized over, were suddenly insufficient. Looking at Zoro and seeing the swordsman laid out so open, so incredibly free and wanting, Sanji suddenly knew what to say without thinking.

“I love you.”

* * * *

Zoro didn’t react for a moment. He couldn’t. Words had come from Sanji’s lips and he knew a part of him understood them, but other parts of him were slow to catch up. He sat staring at Sanji, eyebrows raised only slightly before he finally moved. Zoro jerked as if waking from a dream. He closed his eyes, shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and then opened his eyes again to look at Sanji.

“What?”

Sanji smiled. His blue eyes sparkled. What the hell was he supposed to do when Sanji looked at him like that?

“I love you,” Sanji said again.

Zoro’s head spun. He brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose and tried desperately to make sense of what was happening. Had the love-cook gone insane? Had Zoro’s earlier confession done something to him? Broken him somehow? 

“How… how is that even possible?” Zoro murmured. “What are you—how do you even—”

“—Don’t ask me how it’s possible,” Sanji chuckled. “I don’t know. I don’t care. I just know that I do, and I have for a while.”

Zoro looked at him again, searched his face for signs that he had lost it, but there was nothing. Sanji’s posture was relaxed, confident. His eyes were soft and his face open. Over the last few months Zoro had come to learn that Sanji put on many different faces for a lot of different people and a lot of different situations. Zoro had come to recognize all of them. He could tell when Sanji was pretending, he could tell when Sanji was smiling only to please, and he could tell when Sanji was smiling to cover emotions that had nothing to do with amusement or happiness. 

This smile was real. 

Mouth suddenly dry, Zoro tried to swallow. His heart was beginning to beat a little faster. That heavy, sick feeling that had been churning in his guts for the last hour was melting away and was slowly being replaced by an excited sort of tightening. It was a feeling similar to what Zoro felt before a fight, or when Luffy stood tall and with a few simple words, reaffirmed Zoro’s loyalty and his admiration to the crew.

But how was this even happening? Sanji was crazy for women! Anything with breasts and long legs turned him into blubbering mess of flying hearts and noodle limbs. How had his one-track mind gone so off kilter? Zoro knew he was so far from anything that Sanji wanted that it was stupid to even imagine anything even close—

“Zoro…” Sanji’s voice pulled— _wrenched_ the swordsman from his thoughts.

“What does this mean?” Zoro asked. He hadn’t planned on actually voicing that, but his mouth had gotten away from him.

Sanji shook his head and spread his hands, palms up and open. “What do you want it to mean?”

What _did_ he want it to mean? 

Turning away, Zoro tightened his arms over his chest. He had never considered this as a possibility and therefore he was completely unprepared. Not that he had been completely prepared when Sanji had come up through the trap door ten minutes ago. The last thing in the known universe that Zoro had wanted to hear was Sanji’s rejection. He had been dreading it like the worst kind of death sentence but at least he had thought he had known what was coming.

Now, he didn’t know what to do. 

“Hey,” Sanji’s voice was soft as the cook sat forward and slid his body closer. “What are you thinking?”

Zoro shook his head. “I’m thinking I might be dead.”

Sanji scoffed. “You’re not dead.”

“You could be dead too.”

“I’m not dead. _We’re_ not dead. Don’t be stupid.”

Zoro, despite the racing of his heart and the pounding of his pulse in his ears, couldn’t resist being antagonistic.

“Don’t call me stupid, stupid. I’m emotionally compromised right now. That’s a dick move.” 

Sanji just laughed. “It’s not like this is any easier for me. This is weird, and fucked up.”

Zoro didn’t have anything else to say besides, “Yeah, a little.”

“But you know,” Sanji’s body shifted again, closer. He slid slowly on the bench bringing his hip close enough to brush against Zoro’s. 

“It’s also good.”

Zoro couldn’t move. His body was paralyzed with everything from excitement, to fear, to a sharp, sharp want that boiled at his core. The swordsman had never before let himself go completely and feel the most primal parts of this thing that was between him and Sanji. But now, with everything that had happened, with everything that the cook was possibly offering and the way Sanji leaned into him, his voice soft and his attitude welcoming, Zoro let it happen. He let the want free, igniting an almost desperate arousal that burned him from the inside and out to his arms, his legs, the tips of his toes and fingers. He felt it in his chest, his stomach, down between his thighs, and even up behind his eyes and in his head.

Sanji noticed the change and moved closer. When the cook placed a hand on the window sill his body loomed over Zoro’s, invading the swordsman’s space. His blue eyes were bright in the darkness and his easy posture and relaxed attitude had given away to something much more intense. Zoro couldn’t stop himself from hoping that maybe Sanji had also been holding himself back, and now he was seeing the cook in a state similar to his own. 

As Sanji leaned over him Zoro could smell his shampoo and the faint aroma of spices. Cayenne. Basil. 

Sanji’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke, his lips so close Zoro could almost feel them.

“Stop me.”

Zoro swallowed, stared back at the cook defiantly and shook his head. There was no way he wasn’t letting this happen.

“No.”

* * * *

Sanji leaned in and pressed his lips to Zoro’s. They were warm and rough from the sun and harsh winds. He felt Zoro’s breath catch and he scooted closer, tilted his head to change the angle. He pressed in slowly again, savoring the contact. For one moment Sanji lost himself in sensation, in the sweet give of Zoro’s kiss, the slight tremble in the powerful swordsman’s body. But then Sanji pulled away. He was hungry, starving for more of Zoro, but the cook knew this was still precarious territory. 

Zoro looked at him with eyes that burned. His jaw muscles flexed as he swallowed thickly. Sanji was still close enough to share breath with the swordsman. He was close enough to see every individual lash, ever fleck of color surrounding dilated pupils. Sanji lifted a hand to brush his fingers across Zoro’s jaw. 

He whispered against Zoro’s skin, “This is what _I_ want it to mean…” 

Zoro’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He nodded quickly, his breath coming faster as he sat up and slipped a hand into to the collar of Sanji’s shirt. The cook let himself be pulled in and groaned as Zoro’s mouth found his again. This time Sanji opened, teased Zoro’s lips with his tongue until the swordsman responded. Sanji slid his fingers up into coarse, green hair as his tongue slid inside to taste the most forbidden of fruits this world had to offer.

Zoro kissed like he fought. There was no holding back, no feigns or bluffs. He put everything he had into it and took everything that Sanji gave him. It was trusting and open and the most amazing thing that Sanji had ever experienced. When he pulled away once again, Sanji was screaming inside. It wasn’t enough; it was never going to be enough. Zoro was perfect, a perfect mixture of confident and unsure. He was forceful, but not enough to be overpowering. In fact, the way he clung to Sanji revealed a desperation and eagerness that was so like inexperience that it took Sanji aback. 

Sliding his thumb over Zoro’s bottom lip, Sanji asked, “Have you done this before?”

Zoro’s breaths were still harsh and he fought to keep them under control.

“Kiss? Of course I’ve kissed before.”

Sanji smiled and leaned in brushing his nose against the swordsman’s. 

“I didn’t mean the kissing. Have you ever been with anyone before?”

It was no surprise to Sanji when Zoro tensed and hesitated a moment before he shook his head. 

The cook continued his gentle caress and lowered his forehead to rest against Zoro’s. He couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips. “That’s kind of cute.”

Zoro made a face. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Sanji chuckled. “I would have thought Roronoa Zoro would have broken at least a few hearts, even though you’re a sloppy drunk that hardly ever bathes.”

Zoro growled without any real menace. “You’re hilarious. So what about you? How many women have had the amazingly bad luck of getting with the ‘love-cook’?”

“Not many. The first was some magistrate’s wife that came through the restaurant, and I don’t even really remember the second. I just know she was a blonde.”

“Slut.”

Sanji laughed. He was delighted that the two of them could still bicker—even if it was mostly for show. Apparently, the insults had also evolved. Now instead of baiting each other into a fight, it was possible they were trying to bait each other into something completely different. To Sanji, it really didn’t matter. Either would be satisfying.

Raising his head, the cook placed one last kiss on Zoro’s forehead before he pulled away. He stood slowly, brushing at his slacks. He straightened his jacket and held out his hand.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Zoro eyed him suspiciously. “Go where?”

“To the washroom,” Sanji growled, “You stink.”

Zoro made another face and reluctantly took Sanji’s hand. After he retrieved his swords, the swordsman let the cook lead him to the trapdoor. As Sanji threw the latch and lifted he heavy panel, Zoro’s voice stopped him.

“Sanji…” 

“Hm?” Sanji turned back.

Another beat of hesitation. “So this… us. Are we…?”

“Yes,” Sanji said calmly. He ran his thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand. “Yes, Zoro, we are.”

The skin over the bridge of Zoro’s nose darkened and the swordsman looked away. 

“…Okay.”

Sanji held himself back. At that moment he wanted nothing but Zoro’s body under him. He wasn’t sure what he would do with it, since Zoro’s body was so very, very different than any other body he had ever fantasized about, but the cook was sure he would figure it out when the situation was presented to him.

“You coming?” Sanji grinned.

Zoro nodded and followed him down the ladder.

TBC


	13. Rhythm (Final Chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Last chapter. Only took me four years, lol. I have many people to thank, so pardon the long author’s note. :D
> 
> First, to all the people who beta’d or read over chapters, wow, you’re awesome. Liralen, Tres13, Aev, mysocalledhell, thank you so much for your help! To everyone who encouraged and gave me ideas, yeah, that’s all of you who participated in the contest and submitted your ideas for where the story should go, you rock, thank you for being there for me! I still owe some people prizes and I promise I will get those to you before Christmas.
> 
> And of course, I just wanted to say thank you to anyone who read and reviewed. The good, the bad, the silly, the heart-felt, I appreciate it all, I really do. This was an extremely hard story to get through, but with your encouragement and love I finally did it. I finished it. I would like to say that I write for myself, ‘cause that’s the cool thing to do, but in reality, I do it for you guys. You readers.
> 
> Now, without further ado, here is the last chapter of _The Roronoa Fruit_. Hope you enjoy!

Two weeks passed quickly. The days were filled with the usual routine, disrupted only by the presence of _The Rose’s_ crew. They were a pleasant disruption, however. They were laid back and kind, all of them gifted musicians—much to Brook’s delight—and not one of them ever hesitated to chip in with the cleaning or lifting or fishing or whatever else needed to be done. Franky appreciated the extra hands, and Sanji actually had a dishwashing team ready when the cooking was finished.

Zoro spent the first few days of that first week in a strange sort of daze. He trained, he slept, he ate like normal, but he couldn’t help feeling like everything was a little surreal. Sanji still treated him the same when the rest of the crew was around, and Zoro liked that. He still liked fighting the cook. He still liked making faces and grunting noncommittally when Sanji hurled insults at him. It was still funny to ruffle the cook’s feathers.

Everything had a different kind of feel to it now, of course.

Sanji still gave him shit about everything, but instead of doing it with a sneer, now it was always with a grin. Zoro was used to Sanji cussing at him and then either coming at him with limbs flying, or giving him some sort of scathing glare before turning away. Sanji never turned away now, the cook’s gaze would always linger and Zoro was always left feeling a little riled up. This was nothing new; Sanji had been riling Zoro up for almost a year, but now it was different. The way Sanji looked at Zoro made the swordsman hot in places he had never even realized were important. 

Little by little, small things started to change with how Sanji treated him. When the cook set a plate down in front of him that had the same amount of care and attention put into it as Nami or Robin’s, Zoro’s stomach did a pleasant little flip flop. When the crew was dancing or playing games in the evenings, Sanji would come and stand close to him, or sometimes even sit next to him, and Zoro’s chest would get uncomfortably tight. Hands would brush together, not by accident. Tastes of food that was being prepared were offered on the tips of spoons, and sometimes even the tips of fingers, and once again Zoro began to wonder if maybe he was dead.

Then there were those moments when the crew _wasn’t_ around.

Sanji liked to touch. He liked to smell and taste. If Zoro snuck into the galley while the cook was preparing a meal, the swordsman would usually find himself pushed against the counter with something delicious in his mouth and Sanji’s tongue running up his neck. Zoro just figured it had something to do with how cooking had been such an enormous part of Sanji’s life for so long. Maybe he couldn’t process something unless he learned its flavor first.

Of course, Zoro was no prude. He dished it out the same as he took it. He quickly learned the cooking routines and judged when the best opportunities were to make his own moves. During preparation was obviously a no go, Sanji would no doubt have kicked him through the wall or cut him to ribbons if he had ever tried anything while the cook was slicing meat or chopping vegetables. Cleanup was usually a bad time as well. Sanji liked to have everything shining and back where it belonged quickly and without interruption.

Planning was another story. Zoro found that Sanji spent a good amount of time just thinking about meals. He would stand in the doorway to the pantry or the storage below deck and assemble meals in his head. This was a perfect opportunity to move in because it was something leisurely. Something that Sanji enjoyed doing slowly and informally. Zoro found that if he took this chance and gently pushed Sanji into the pantry, the cook would smile at him and close the door behind them. It never got too crazy, but those moments, those mostly unplanned meetings in the cramped spaces between bags of flower and rice, were some of the most enjoyable that Zoro had ever experienced. 

And then there were the nights.

After the crews were in bed and _Sunny_ rocked gently on dark waters, Sanji reminded Zoro that he was, indeed, _not_ dead. There was no way his body could feel what it was feeling, no way his heart could beat so hard, and his breath be so fast and harsh, and not be alive. It was gentle and tentative at first. Sanji had invited him into the galley, set him down at the table and had just kissed him. He had let Zoro explore with his hands. They had whispered and laughed and made fun of each other and it had been amazing. The second and third nights had been the same, but the fourth Sanji had pulled Zoro into the makeshift room the crew had set up for him when he was recovering from surgery. He had pulled off his tie, slipped out of his jacket and asked if he could touch Zoro’s scar.

Zoro had moaned when Sanji had lowered his head and touched it with his tongue.

They slept in that bed every night since. It was too small to fit them both, but they didn’t care. They lay tangled together, hot and sweaty in the pants they were still too chicken to take off. Sanji had ventured once, his hand shaking. They had been lying on their sides facing each other and Sanji had whispered, “…this okay?” 

Zoro had nodded. His eyes had never left Sanji’s face. His heart had been thumping so hard against his ribcage the swordsman was afraid it was going to break through. When Sanji’s fingers had slid over him, gripped him in a strong but unsure palm, Zoro had gasped. He had come hard with only a few strokes. Sanji had kissed him and held him like he was some girl, but Zoro had loved him for it. 

It had taken another five days for Sanji to let Zoro touch him.

Everything was a lot easier from then on, a little more normal. This thing with Sanji was still exciting and it still made Zoro’s heart race, but the two of them didn’t have to ask before they did things to each other. This new kind of trust was growing stronger. 

Zoro’s hands didn’t tremble anymore when he touched Sanji’s skin.

Sanji stopped treating Zoro like he was made of glass.

Their fights became more intense. Sanji pushed Zoro to his limits and past. Swords and polished shoes clashed together for hours before either man slowed. The strain it put on their bodies, the ache it forced into their muscles, was almost as much of a turn-on for Zoro as the way Sanji licked his lips after they kissed.

Zoro had never imagined he would find someone that would be with him in a romantic sense and also be able to give him what he needed in combat and training. Not since Kuina anyway. Every day, every time the swordsman saw that gleam in Sanji’s eye, every time he felt that the cook was baiting him, or trying to get him to fight, to train, or just hone his skills by dodging a few wild kicks, Zoro felt a new and even more powerful wave of affection wash over him. 

Sanji was really all he had ever wanted.

Now, Zoro stood on deck, watching the sliver of island stretch and widen on the horizon. He was no longer living life in a daze. He woke in the mornings and ate and trained with a new kind of focus. Zoro still had his goals, he still had his dream, but now he had more than just a single motivation. He had Sanji, and that alone came with an entirely new set of goals and dreams. 

They would reach the island sometime late the next morning, or so Nami had told them earlier that day, and both crews were tasked with immediately hopping ashore and assisting Sanji in finding food. _Sunny’s_ stores were almost completely gone and they needed fruits and greens desperately. Even if Sanji was capable of creating a feast out of nothing but a freshly caught fish and some dried mustard, it was still important that the crew have a well-rounded diet to keep up their energy and strength. 

Zoro was perfectly fine with assisting in the foraging, but there was a tension in his mind and body that had nothing to do with the state of the ship’s supply. At the moment, the swordsman could really care less about food. Currently, there was only one thing that was important to Zoro, and that was getting Sanji away from the ship and as far away from the crew as they could get. This sneaking around and having to wait until the others had gone to bed was starting to annoy Zoro in a very fundamental way. All Zoro wanted was just to get Sanji alone and have a little time to be together without interruptions.

Was it sentimental? Yes. Did it make him weak? Probably not. Did he care? No.

Besides, the cook had been acting funny the last few days. He still gave Zoro most of his time, and when they were together, Sanji was more than focused, but when he was cooking, or standing alone on the deck smoking, Sanji had a strange, faraway look in his eyes. It was a look Zoro was not familiar with and it unnerved him somehow.

Turning on his heel, Zoro made his way up the stairs and pulled open the door to the galley. Inside it was warm and still held the lingering aroma of the dinner Sanji had prepared and the crews had devoured so eagerly. The kitchen was currently spotless, and the dining area was back in order, but there was no sign of the cook. Zoro however, knew where this particular cook could be found.

Sure enough, Sanji stood leaning against the open door of the pantry, hands in his pockets, and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. Zoro still wasn’t quite sure why planning took so long, especially now that there was hardly anything to choose from, but he figured it was just one of those routine things. Zoro had them in his training regiment, so why wouldn’t Sanji have them for cooking? 

Moving close, Zoro slid his fingers over Sanji’s hip. The cook didn’t turn around but he did pull a hand out of his pocket to lay over Zoro’s. He might have even leaned back a little, but Zoro wasn’t sure. Heart thumping harder and skin growing warmer just by being near Sanji, the swordsman lifted his other hand up to the doorframe for balance. He brought his lips to the back of Sanji’s neck and pressed them into soft, blond hair.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Sanji’s reply was quiet, “Hey.”

There was worry in Sanji’s voice and suddenly, Zoro knew what was on the cook’s mind, what had been bothering him for the past few days. It was so obvious that the swordsman was a little annoyed with himself for not figuring it out earlier.

Knowing what was wrong didn’t mean he could help though, all Zoro could do at that moment was reassure Sanji as best he could.

“You know we’re going to hit that island tomorrow, right? The crew isn’t going to starve if we don’t have breakfast.”

Sanji shook his head and slowly pushed off the doorframe. “It’s not that simple.” He turned in Zoro’s hold and ground his teeth down on the cigarette that was already coming apart. “If I send you guys out tomorrow hungry, I’ll be sending you out into some unknown forest or jungle where I don’t know anything about what grows or lives there. Luffy will immediately start shoving things in his mouth, and I won’t be able to stop him. What if everything’s poison? What if…” Sanji stopped for a moment and ran his hands over his face.

“What if the food on this next island is messed up like on the last one? What if we can’t stop everyone because they’re so hungry and instead of turning into zombies, they all end up dying?”

Zoro was taken aback, not just by how Sanji was acting, but by the underlying confession in the cook’s words. He straightened and raised his hand to pull the destroyed cigarette from between Sanji’s lips.

“Sanji… Sanji, that isn’t going to happen, we’ll be fine.”

The cook sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just can’t stop thinking about it. I mean this island is so close to the last one, maybe chemicals seeped out into the ocean, maybe… I don’t know…” 

“But we ate fish from out of the ocean the last few days,” Zoro argued. “Wouldn’t we have noticed if that was the case?”

Sanji pressed his palms to his temples. “I don’t fucking know, Zoro.”

Zoro took Sanji’s jaw in his hands and forced the cook’s face up to look at him. “Oi, where is this coming from? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Sanji’s eyes were pained, but he glared at Zoro with a familiar ferocity. “We have no meat. There are _four_ potatoes in storage. Everything frozen has been used, and I’m actually almost out of dried spices. We don’t even have any rice left!” The cook pulled away from Zoro and slammed the door to the pantry closed. “This is fucking ridiculous! How could I let this happen?! I’m in charge of feeding this crew! Keeping them healthy! If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t been…”

Zoro folded his arms across his chest. “Hadn’t been what? Resting after major surgery? Recovering from Chopper cutting a hole in your side?”

“Yes!” Sanji rounded on him. “If I hadn’t been sleeping it off, I might have noticed something! I should have been there to stop everyone from eating that shit and then we wouldn’t have been there for weeks and let all the ship’s stores _rot_! All of our food wouldn’t have been _wasted_ if I’d just done my _job_ and I hadn’t been fucking _passed out_ from a stupid injury—”

Zoro’s fist connected with Sanji’s stomach and the cook let out a pained grunt. Zoro had held back, he hadn’t punched as hard as he could. He didn’t want Sanji passing out on him, no. He wanted a chance to set him straight.

“A stupid injury you got protecting the ship.” Zoro’s voice was low, challenging. “A stupid injury you got _doing your job_. What, you think what happened in the mountain was your fault, shit-cook?”

Sanji straightened, his eyes ablaze with fury and hurt. Zoro didn’t like seeing him like this, and he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him like this, but the swordsman felt deep down that this was the way to get through to the stubborn cook. 

“You think you’re the only one that keeps the crew safe?”

Zoro was able to get his arms up just in time before a powerful kick sent him hurling violently across the galley. His back hit the door with a painful _crash_ and he felt the breath leave his lungs. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Sanji shouted. His body was trembling with anger; the tension in the air was hot as a furnace. 

Zoro ignored the ache in his lungs and pulled Shusui from its saya. “If you screwed up so bad last time, what makes you think you can keep us from killing ourselves this time?”

Sanji was on him in a flash. Zoro had only enough time to defend as powerful and furious kicks rained down on him from all sides. He dodged and moved around the small space of the galley, two parts careful of Sanji’s attacks, and one part wary of furniture and cooking supplies. It was hard because Sanji was serious, but the cook was also emotional, and Zoro had found emotional Sanji was predictable when regular fighting Sanji was not.

“You bastard!” Sanji roared. “Who the fuck do you think I am! I’ll tie Luffy to the fucking mast! I’ll burn down the entire jungle! Knock out the crew and feed them puréed fish through a straw!” With one swift roundhouse, Sanji sent Zoro sailing into the wall. Before the swordsman could recover, Sanji was there, his body pressed against Zoro’s and his pale hands fisted in Zoro’s shirt. 

“I’ll sail this ship all by my fucking self to the next island if I have to. _Do you hear me!!?_ ” 

Zoro stopped resisting. He breathed evenly, watched the cook’s eyes as realization leaked in and snuffed out the burning rage. As Sanji’s features began to soften, the corners of Zoro’s mouth turned up in a small smile. 

Fingers relaxed, and Sanji pulled away slowly. Zoro straightened and slid Shusui back home. The cook stared at the floor near Zoro’s feet for a long moment, breath returning to normal, his body ceasing its violent shaking. He chuckled once, softly, and without a lot a real humor, and shook his head.

“You’re an asshole,” he said simply.

Zoro’s smile widened to a grin as Sanji turned and pulled open the galley door. He left it open behind him, and Zoro took that as an invitation to follow.

For a while, they just stood on the deck. Sanji smoked slowly and watched the sun slip behind the horizon. Zoro leaned against the railing a few inches away, waiting for the right moment to say something. He wasn’t sure how long Sanji wanted—needed—to recover, but he was willing to give him as much time as he was able.

Finally, after the sun was gone, and the stars shone brightly in the night sky above them, Sanji flicked his cigarette over the side of the ship and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry…”

Zoro looked at him, “Nothing to be sorry about.”

“No,” Sanji chuckled, “I mean I’m sorry for beating your ass.”

“You didn’t beat my ass,” Zoro scoffed. 

“Says the bruise on your arm and the blood on your lip.”

The cook lifted a thumb to Zoro’s lip and gently wiped away whatever blood had been there. Zoro felt his pulse rise as the touch sent electricity over his skin.

“But seriously,” Sanji continued, his voice soft, “that was pretty shitty of me back there. I don’t know what got into me. I saw the pantry and store rooms and just flipped.”

Zoro decided to remain quiet. There was nothing to say anyway, Sanji understood what happened and Zoro didn’t feel like rehashing through it. Might as well just let it slip away like the sun had moments before. 

They stayed that way for a while longer, until Sanji yawned and Zoro finally noticed the weariness in the lines of the cook’s shoulders.

“You don’t have watch, do you?”

Sanji shook his head.

“You wanna go to bed?”

Sanji turned to him and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Zoro took the cook’s hand and pulled him away from the railing. They made their way across the deck towards the room with the tiny bed they shared. Travelling the short distance only took a handful of seconds, but it seemed like hours to Zoro. Time seemed to slow and Zoro’s heart started to pound in his chest as they neared that familiar door. He didn’t really understand why until they were both inside and Sanji had turned him around and pressed him against the hard wood paneling.

The kiss was soft at first, just a press of lips and a gentle tongue exploring, sliding against Zoro’s in slow, languid movements. Zoro relaxed into it, he found Sanji’s hips and pulled the man against him. They stayed that way, just kissing, touching, exploring each other with a calm reverence until Sanji pulled back. He slid his thumb over Zoro’s bottom lip again and smiled when Zoro reacted in the same as he had before on deck. 

The cook stayed close as he shrugged out of his jacket and loosened his tie. Zoro chuckled and pulled his swords free and placed them against the wall in the corner. Then he reached up to slide the silky fabric from around Sanji’s neck.

“I thought you were tired.”

Sanji scoffed as he tossed his jacket over the back of a nearby chair. “Right now I’d have to be dead to not want in your pants.”

Zoro threw the tie in the direction of the chair as Sanji got his hands under his haramaki. The piece clinked softly as the cook pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor. His fingers were warm as he slid them underneath Zoro’s shirt; his palms were soft as they ran up his torso. He kissed Zoro’s chest as the shirt joined the haramaki. Fingers trailed over the line of Zoro’s scar, and the swordsman let out a breath as a tongue flicked out to tease the gnarled flesh.

The buttons on Sanji’s shirt were small and Zoro’s hands were clumsy and awkward as he tried to undo them.

“Take this fucking thing off before I rip it apart,” he growled. 

Sanji laughed and stepped back to unbutton and shed the shirt. It joined the jacket on the back of the chair as he returned to touching Zoro’s skin. His palms lay flat, fingers spread as he ran his touch over Zoro’s abs. His thumbs massaged circles into muscle that turned out to be extremely sensitive. Zoro groaned softly and took the cook’s face in his hands. He brought their lips back together as he reached up and raked his fingers through Sanji’s soft hair.

He felt his pants being undone and Sanji’s hands sliding past his waistband before Zoro could think of what to do. The cook gripped him in a hold that was no longer unsure, and stroked him with a confidence of a long-time lover. Zoro let his head fall back and just feel, his hands wandered over soft skin and hair as Sanji feasted on his throat. This was the way Sanji was, confident and sure of himself after a quick study. When he put his mind to something there was no stopping him, and in this he was calm and steady and forceful if Zoro let him. He had already learned many of Zoro’s weaknesses in the last few weeks, and now he could reduce the swordsman to putty easily.

It was a good thing Zoro was also a fast learner.

Tilting his head, Zoro leaned in and ran his tongue over the shell of Sanji’s ear. The cook gasped and faltered in his movements. When the swordsman grinned and replaced his tongue with his teeth, Sanji groaned into his neck and pressed the full line of his body against Zoro’s. The hand on Zoro’s length slowed, but the friction of their bodies rolling together was a delicious replacement. 

Zoro’s mouth moved to the corner of Sanji’s jaw and he bit down gently. He was rewarded immediately with a harsh “ _ah… shit…_ ” and the hand that had been pumping his shaft moved to slide over his balls.

Panting against Sanji’s skin, Zoro growled into the cook’s ear, “What would you do if I just started biting you everywhere?”

With a sound that was half laugh, half moan, Sanji pulled away. His hands left Zoro’s pants and lifted to grip both the swordsman’s arms. Before Zoro could protest or even think of what to do to counter, Sanji had turned him around and pushed him down to sit on the bed.

Sanji was breathing hard, his skin obviously flushed even in the dim lighting of the small room. He gazed down at Zoro from under heavy eyelids and brushed a lock of hair back into place. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “You should try it sometime.”

Zoro’s mouth went dry at the breathless, almost animalistic growl in Sanji’s voice. There was something so incredible, so profoundly sexy about the way Zoro could get Sanji to lose himself. It had been the basis for all of the swordsman’s baiting and antagonizing when they had first met. He knew that now. It had nothing to do with dominance or power, only the simple fact that Zoro loved the way Sanji looked when he was out of control and focused wholly on him. 

That was why, when Sanji lowered himself to his knees and ran his hands up the inside of Zoro’s thighs, the swordsman made the most pathetic of sounds.

Sanji’s mouth was only a hair’s breadth from Zoro’s jaw when he whispered hotly against his skin.

“Stop me…”

Zoro tried desperately to control his breathing as arousal seared through him, cut like a knife through his gut and tore into his loins. He leaned in to brush his lips over Sanji’s and panted eagerly into the cook’s mouth.

“No.”

Zoro hadn’t realized that Sanji had been holding his breath until the cook let it out in a choked gasp. He undid Zoro’s pants with a quick flick of his wrist, and lowered his head to slide his lips over the tip of Zoro’s cock.

It wasn’t anything like what Zoro had imagined. It was better. The softness of Sanji’s lips, the wetness of his mouth, the heat of his tongue, was dizzying. The swordsman’s head fell back and his hands held the edge of the mattress in what could only be described as a death grip. Sanji’s mouth slid over him again and again. He stroked the base with his hand and sucked on the tip. Zoro closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in concentration as pressure built. Tension coiled in his gut and down in his groin. Pleasure boiled and spread slowly through his body, down his thighs and up into his belly.

“Sanji…” was all he could get past his lips as pressure clouded his mind; pleasure dulled his senses. 

Sanji didn’t stop, he pumped harder and faster, his lips slid down low and the cook relaxed his throat to accommodate Zoro’s full length. Zoro growled and arched his back, bucked his hips up into Sanji’s hold. The pressure still mounted and it was almost too much for Zoro to handle. He felt something inside himself start to unravel and it startled him. He felt himself losing control and he tensed up.

But then Sanji’s hand was over his. The cook slid his fingers between Zoro’s, lacing them together. He hummed over Zoro’s cock, rolled his balls in his other hand and that almost – almost made Zoro cry out. But oh, it was okay, he could lose control with Sanji. Sanji was there for him, Sanji wanted him like this. Just a little faster, just a little more… Just like that… _just like that…_

He hunched over, the electric pulse of orgasm racing through him like blood through his veins. It spread out though his limbs, seeming to leave him through his fingertips and toes because his body couldn’t hold it all in. He growled, he panted and groaned into the top of Sanji’s head, paying no mind when the cook straightened and wiped at his mouth with the heel of his hand. 

“Zoro?” he said softly.

It was all Zoro could do just to breathe. He kept his eyes closed, stayed hunched over and gripped the mattress for support as the liquid pleasure in his veins started to thin. 

Sanji’s hands ran over him. They cupped his jaw as the cook kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Zoro nodded.

He heard Sanji’s smile. “I blow your mind?”

Zoro smiled back. “Whatever. You wish, cook.” He swallowed once, not only to try and wet his parched throat, but also to test and see if the muscles in his mouth would fail him or not.

“My turn?” he asked hoarsely.

Sanji chuckled and ran his hands over the back of Zoro’s neck, kneading the muscles that were finally loose and relaxed. “You don’t have to.”

Zoro blinked once, long and hard before he took a breath and shifted his weight. “I think I need a drink, I can hardly swallow.”

He started to push Sanji up but the cook refused, standing quickly and pressing his hands against Zoro’s shoulders. “I got it,” he said.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have t—”

“No, really,” Sanji ran a hand through his hair and trailed his thumb down Zoro’s cheek, “It’s fine, I’ll get it. Stay right there.”

With that, he grabbed his shirt from the back of the chair and slipped out the door.

Zoro sat for a minute trying to regain his composure. He was dizzy, lightheaded, and perhaps even a little giddy. It was kind of like the way he felt after a few bottles of wine. Not quite drunk yet, but definitely not sober anymore. It was kind of nice.

Slowly, he kicked off his shoes and started to pull himself up on the bed, but he stopped halfway. There was no reason to believe that he and Sanji would be going any farther tonight, but when the cook returned, Zoro wanted to reciprocate the amazing experience Sanji had just gifted him. Or at least try, or something. Maybe he should try a little something different? Sanji did seem to be in the mood for trying different things at the moment.

Without too much thought on the matter, Zoro pulled himself off the bed and slipped his trousers down over his hips. The heavy fabric landed on the floor with a _thump_ , leaving Zoro completely nude. He left the pants where they were, climbed back up onto the bed, and slipped under the covers. He lay down and turned on his side. He rested his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket up and over his hips. 

Just in time too. The door opened and Sanji slipped back inside. He pulled off his shirt and returned it to the back of the chair before he moved to the bed and handed Zoro a glass of water. “Here,” he whispered.

The swordsman didn’t miss the double take Sanji’s eyes gave the crumpled pants on the floor, and Zoro couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he sat up and raised the glass to his lips. 

“Thank you.”

He watched Sanji sit and watch him as he downed the water in a few deep swallows. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zoro was truly grateful. The cool liquid soothed his dry throat and quenched an intense thirst he hadn’t even known he had possessed. However, his throat was the last thing he was thinking about as he met Sanji’s eyes and held his gaze.

There was something in the way the cook was looking at him that made Zoro feel warm inside, but at the same time, he was a little curious. Sanji’s eyes were soft, gentle, something Zoro wasn’t used to seeing directed at him. It was almost like Sanji wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to start.

That was ridiculous though, if there was ever anything to say, Zoro was sure Sanji knew how to say it, and he always would. Damn cook talked too much sometimes.

Setting the glass on the bedside table, Zoro lay back and patted the bed beside him. Sanji eyed the empty spot and started to move in, but Zoro held up a finger.

“Not so fast, cook. Price is you gotta be naked.”

Sanji hesitated for a moment, the possibilities and implications obviously churning in his head, but then he smiled and stood. He unbuttoned his slacks and slid them over his hips. Zoro watched with interest as the cook bared everything to him without shame or embarrassment. The swordsman’s eyes trailed down lean muscle and lingered on Sanji’s half-hard cock. He had seen it before of course, but not like this. This was nice. This way he could take his time and admire the shape of it, the size. Zoro liked how it felt in his palm, how it curved and how the skin of the head was smooth and soft. 

When the slacks were hung over the back of the chair, Sanji returned to the bed and slid in underneath the blanket. He lay on his side, his head resting on his arm. The two of them were still for a few long moments, just watching each other closely, breathing in time, sharing the same air. 

“What are you thinking about?” Zoro asked.

Sanji’s shoulder went up in a small shrug. “A lot of things you probably don’t want to hear.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed, even as his mouth turned up in a smile. “What do you mean?”

Sanji closed his eyes and sighed softly. “It’s just dumb stuff. Just… things that I like about you or… things that I feel or whatever. You know, sappy shit.”

The warm feeling inside Zoro intensified as Sanji’s words settled over him. His skin tingled and a pleasant shiver rolled down his spine at their implied meaning. The thought of Sanji thinking about him, thinking about his feelings and particular things he liked about Zoro during the day, made the swordsman’s heart beat faster. He swallowed slowly and reached out a hand to trail fingers down Sanji’s arm.

“What kind of stuff?” he whispered. 

“I told you it’s stupid.”

“I don’t care,” Zoro pressed, “Just tell me. I wanna hear.”

Sanji opened his eyes and adjusted his position bringing himself closer to Zoro’s warm and accepting body. They were tangled together, like they were almost every night, but this time it was so different. This time Zoro could feel the skin of Sanji’s arousal against his own hardening flesh, he could feel the soft slide of Sanji’s thigh on the inside of his leg, and the pads of Sanji’s fingers were cool against Zoro’s hip.

“Tonight at dinner,” Sanji murmured, “you looked up at me when I put the plate down and I almost… almost kissed you right there, right in front of everyone. I didn’t even care.”

Zoro held his breath. “Why didn’t you?”

Shrugging his shoulder again, Sanji continued in a softer voice. “There were a million reasons then, but none of them seem that important right now. I just…” The cook seemed to fight with himself over what he wanted to say for a moment, but then he let out a slow breath and continued again. “Sometimes I just want everyone to know. Sometimes I want the whole goddamn _world_ to know. I want to brag to people. I want to scream about how I love you from the crow’s nest…” 

Zoro was sure Sanji’s face reddened as he spoke and for some reason it was the most fascinating thing the swordsman had ever seen. 

“And it’s…” Sanji said, his eyes closing again; his voice dropping even lower, “It’s hard for me sometimes to keep it all in. I know that you don’t like all that sentimental stuff so I keep my mouth shut. I mean… whatever, I told you it was dumb. It’s just… sorry. It’s stupid.” 

Zoro’s pulse quickened with every word out of Sanji’s mouth until his heart was doing an excellent job of bruising his insides. He hadn’t expected something like that, and now his want for Sanji, and the need to communicate to the cook that what he had just said was exactly how Zoro felt as well, overwhelmed him. He reached out a hand that was nearly shaking with excitement and slid it around the back of Sanji’s neck. He pulled the cook’s lips against his and kissed the man with a newfound kind of desperation. Sanji responded immediately and the kiss quickly turned hot and wet.

It wasn’t enough though. Tonight, this wasn’t going to be enough. Zoro wanted more than just hands and tongues and awkward positions that left cramps in his neck and back. No, tonight he wanted more, he _needed_ much more.

Sliding a hand down to Sanji’s hip, he pushed the cook into his back. Sanji’s seemed surprised but he didn’t object, especially when Zoro put a leg over his waist and rolled on top of him. Zoro rested his weight on his hands and leaned down, bringing his lips to Sanji’s again. His breath came quickly and whispered in a voice he didn’t recognize. 

“That’s not stupid… I don’t think it’s stupid.”

Sanji looked at him for one long moment, his eyes wide, then every tense muscle in the cook’s body all seemed to relax at once. His hands slid up Zoro’s thighs and he lifted his head to cover Zoro’s face in kisses. For a few minutes they stayed that way, just kissing each other, running their hands over each other’s skin. But then when Zoro lowered his hard length to slide against Sanji’s, both men froze. Sanji’s mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“Oh… wow. Do that again…”

Zoro obeyed. He rolled his hips, creating friction like he had never before experienced. A pleasure he had never even though existed shot through him with every slow thrust, every slide against Sanji’s body. 

But then Sanji’s hand was on his cock, and Zoro felt like he was going to lose his mind.

Raising a hand, Zoro gripped the headboard. Sanji’s hips lifted to meet his thrusts and the swordsman knew he wasn’t going to last. He wanted it to last though, he _needed_ it to last.

“Sanji…” he panted. 

“Yeah?” Sanji’s voice was just as labored and the sound threw another pleasant shiver down Zoro’s spine.

The swordsman slowed his movements and brought his forehead to rest against the cook’s.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Sanji’s eyes widened. “F…uh… that’s… isn’t that kind of what we’re doing now?”

Zoro shook his head. “No, I mean do you want to _fuck me_.”

Another long pause. Sanji’s eyes searched his face and his throat seemed to catch on the breath that came hard and slow. Zoro was about to take it back; tell him never mind and continue with what they were doing, but then he felt the twitch against his cock. He felt the distinct pulse of Sanji’s erection and he heard the almost inaudible moan come from deep in the cook’s chest.

Sanji wanted him, Zoro knew it.

Without waiting for an answer, Zoro reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out the bottle of lotion that Sanji had provided a few days before. The slickness it provided had felt amazing and now Zoro was relatively sure it was a necessity. He straightened up and threw off the blanket, opened the bottle, and poured some into his hand.

“Zoro, wait,” Sanji panted as the swordsman ran the cool lotion over his dick. The cook’s eyes slid shut for a moment, but he still tried to voice his protest. “Zoro… you don’t have to.”

Tossing the bottle on the table, Zoro climbed up the length of Sanji’s body and pressed his lips firmly onto the other man’s. His tongue swept out, catching Sanji’s, and rolled hungrily as if to lap up every last bit of flavor from the cook’s mouth.

When he pulled away, Sanji was holding his hips and panting softly beneath him. The sight quickly unraveled Zoro, and with the last bit of restraint he had, the swordsman breathed across Sanji’s lips in a desperate plea.

“Stop me…”

Sanji’s eyes seemed to clear at Zoro’s words. The cook looked up at him, breathless and hesitant, but then his wits seemed to come back to him. His features changed from unsure and slipped into a smile. That hard-set and determined look that Zoro knew so well, and loved so much, spread over his face and he lifted his head to nip at Zoro’s bottom lip.

“Fuck no.”

Request made, and consent given, Zoro let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He reached down and took Sanji in his hand, guiding the cook to him with a sure hold. The first press of Sanji’s tip against him was nothing, but as the full thickness of him began to push inside, Zoro felt the pain and the pressure begin to mount.

Sanji’s hands rubbed soothing circles into his thighs as Zoro halted. “Are you okay?”

Zoro nodded. It was true, he had experienced pain that was more intense many times before, it was just this was new and much more emotionally fueled than he had expected. 

“Zoro?”

“I’m fine,” he growled, “shut your mouth.”

He heard the cook chuckle underneath him and when he felt the press of Sanji’s lips to his forehead, Zoro pushed his hips down until the entire length of Sanji’s cock was inside him. It was strange and slightly uncomfortable, but the deep groan from the cook’s throat was more than worth it. Zoro rolled his hips a little in a small experiment and watched Sanji’s eyes slide closed.

“Feels good?” Zoro asked.

“Ah…” Sanji breathed, “Yes…”

Zoro lifted his hips this time instead of rolling them, and Sanji made a noise that went straight to Zoro’s balls. His dick was soft, but if he could get the cook to make more noises like that, it wouldn’t be soft for very long.

They found they moved together easily and Zoro had to return his hand to the headboard for leverage. The cook’s hips and thighs were incredible in battle, but maybe what he was really built for was sex? Zoro tried to keep himself from moaning like some street whore, but every time Sanji lifted those amazing hips to meet his, he saw stars. It got even better when Sanji bent his legs and used the heels of his feet to push off the bed. It was still slow, still somewhat gentle and careful, but the power the two of them had together, the strength, the connection they had from all their months of fighting, all their training and being at odds with each other, finally found it’s rhythm. 

“Let me up,” Sanji said suddenly.

Zoro faltered, “What?”

Sanji’s hands squeezed Zoro’s ass and he bit down on Zoro’s neck. “Lie back, let me do it for a bit.”

The thought of it had Zoro’s cock throbbing. He pulled himself off of Sanji and maneuvered onto his back as the cook knelt in between his legs. When Sanji pressed in, the angle was different, the sensation was more intense.

“Shit…” Zoro grunted.

Sanji stopped and looked down at him. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Zoro was more than okay. His body was suddenly trembling with the pleasure of Sanji’s cock inside him. Whatever was happening, it was good, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.

“Come on, cook,” Zoro panted as he wrapped his legs around Sanji’s thighs, “Let’s see what you got.”

Sanji apparently had whatever it took to reduce Zoro into a shaking, shuddering mess. Every thrust of Sanji’s hips was like a bolt of pleasure straight into Zoro’s core. Every pant against his lips was the most amazing sound the swordsman had ever heard. When he felt that pressure, that intense boiling building up again, Zoro reached up and pulled Sanji’s face down to his.

“Ah… tomorrow, kiss me on front of everyone.”

Sanji shuddered above him. His next thrust was hard, almost painful, but it only heightened the overall sensation. It only brought Zoro that much closer to his release.

“I’ll do whatever you want, fucking Marimo…”

Zoro growled as his control started to slip.

“I love you, you damn shitty cook.”

Sanji’s eyes squeezed shut at that. He hunched over, and his movements became erratic. “Ah, fuck you… I can’t… ah, _shit_ Zoro…”

He felt the cook’s tension peak and then break as Sanji came with a shudder and a groan into his throat. As the cook pulsed inside him, Zoro let go, stroking himself roughly as the last few hard thrusts of Sanji’s hips sent him over the edge. Pleasure coursed through him once again, but this time, it was as if there really was no outlet. There was not enough space inside to hold it. The bloom of ecstasy spread out from deep inside of him and pulsed through every part of him over and over. Zoro gritted his teeth and arched, molded himself to the tense contours of Sanji’s body. He cried out as he spilled over his hand, splattering up his chest and neck. 

And then the tension flowed out of him. The sweet glow of release washed over Zoro and he felt every bone in his body turn to water. Sanji lay on top of him, breathing harsh against his neck, body as much dead weight as Zoro’s. 

They lay that way a long time, quiet, still, just breathing. Just feeling.

Zoro didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke when Sanji pulled the blanket over him. The cook was resting on an elbow, running his fingers through Zoro’s hair. When Zoro looked up, he was smiling softly.

“What?” Zoro asked, his voice muffled.

Sanji’s smile widened, “You’re amazing.”

Zoro smiled into Sanji’s arm, that pleasant warmth washing over him once again.

“I know.”

He heard Sanji chuckle and then the cook shifted to lie down. He held Zoro gently, like he had that first time, with Zoro’s face tucked into the his chest, one pale hand in his hair, and the other tracing the scars of the swordsman’s back. Zoro slipped a hand over Sanji’s waist and pulled the cook’s body even closer.

Zoro was sure he could lie like this forever.

“Goodnight, Zoro.”

Zoro sighed, content.

“Night, Sanji.”

* * *

Sanji woke to a dull ache in his lower back, but the rest of him was loose and relaxed. He lifted a hand to rub the last of his dreams from behind his eyelids and sat up. It took him a moment but then he realized he was alone. Zoro was gone.

_Zoro._

A wave of affection and embarrassment and excitement washed over him and he grinned. He flopped back down onto the pillow and pulled the blanket up and over his head. Last night came rushing back to him in a flash of memories that had his cock half hard and his heart thumping. 

God, he loved Zoro. Zoro was so sexy. What the hell was he going to do with himself? He felt like he was thirteen again!

He heard the door open and he pulled the blanket down. When Zoro slipped into the room, Sanji sat up, his heart beating even faster.

Zoro smiled at him and motioned with his head. “Come on, cook, get up. I wanna show you something.”

Curious, Sanji slid out of bed and retrieved his slacks and shirt from the back of the chair. Slipping on his shoes, he followed Zoro out onto the deck. It was still dark, but the sky was patches of purples and pinks in the East. Zoro led Sanji to the railing facing the brightening sky and guided him to stand against the railing.

“What’s up?” Sanji asked.

Zoro moved up behind him and put his arms around Sanji’s waist.

“When you told me about what happened to you, and why you watch the sunset, you said the sunrise didn’t matter to you because it just meant that it was another day to live through.”

Sanji’s insides tightened at memories and his hands ran over Zoro’s gently.

“I wanted to show you this,” Zoro continued in a whisper. “I wanted to show you this sunrise because I wanted to remind you that you have things to live for now. You have your crew, and your dream.”

Sanji’s heart swelled at Zoro’s words. His hands tightened on the swordsman’s and he leaned back into the man’s warm and solid embrace.

Zoro brought his lips to Sanji’s ear and he nuzzled against Sanji’s hair as he spoke again, this time it was barely a whisper.

“And you have me… okay? You have me.”

Sanji turned in Zoro’s hold. He lifted a hand to run his thumb over Zoro’s jaw and he smiled at the blush that had spread across the swordsman’s face.

“You have me too, Zoro.”

Zoro kissed him, and Sanji felt alive.

THE END

Epilogue

The sun shone down on the crews of the _Sunny_ and _Rose_ as they made their way up the beach towards the thick tangle of trees and colorful plants. Nami had sent Sanji and Chopper ahead to check out what grew in this strange place, just in case this island sported shrubs growing terrifying combinations of pineapple-eggplants or something.

There had been no word from the cook or the doctor for almost half an hour, so the navigator had assumed either the foliage was safe for certain excited captains to traipse through, or they had gotten themselves into some kind of trouble and needed the crew to come to their aid anyway.

She turned, noticing the look of apprehension on Zoro’s face as he walked beside her, and she smiled inwardly. It was so cute how the two of them worried about each other when they were both so ridiculously strong. 

“He’s fine, Zoro,” she said softly.

“I know,” he muttered.

Just then, the branches parted and a red-faced and excited reindeer pushed out into the clearing.

“You guys!” he shouted, “You’ll never believe what we found!”

Sanji appeared behind the little doctor then and held up a thick bundle of strange, green mutant grapes. The cook was grinning like a madman as he popped a few in his mouth and chewed happily.

“Zoro fruits!” Chopper squealed.

Nami covered a laugh as the swordsman growled beside her.

“Don’t call them that, Chopper!”

But the crews didn’t hear him over Luffy’s cheering. They were all too excited and too busy running up the slope to get into the trees.

Only Nami saw the look that passed between the cook and the swordsman, and really, it was a sort of private look, so she pretended she hadn’t seen it at all.

~END~


End file.
